


The Epic and Wondrous Tale of the Librarian and the Demon Hunter

by annella



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Library, Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst and Humor, Background Relationships, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Minor Aleksandra "Zarya" Zaryanova/Mei-Ling Zhou, Minor Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, minor genji shimada/original female character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-06-11 03:12:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 47,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15306177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annella/pseuds/annella
Summary: Jesse's got a pretty good job as the librarian in a magical library. He spends his days cataloguing, tracking down rare titles, fixing up the occasional spell gone awry, and dealing with the smoke monster in the basement.Then Hanzo Shimada, Demon Hunter, shows up to turn his world upside down.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic wouldn't have been possible without the help of emotionalmorphine! He's basically a co-author on this, considering how much he helped me with plot, plot holes, where to go next, and helping me edit it into something resembling a story.
> 
> This is a complete fic and will be 7 chapters long. I'll post a chapter a week (as I'm still editing later chapters).

You can only find it if you know where to go.

The Library is within a derelict Blockbuster. The sign has been falling off for years and the roof tiles are mostly caved in or thickly covered in leaf mould and pigeon droppings. The ancient parking lot is cracked and hazardous, littered with heavily-rusted shopping carts from a bygone era and shattered bottles. Tumbleweeds of plastic bags shift across the surface and despite the heavy sun beating down upon the torn asphalt, a chill wind keens eerily across the lot. Pools of water gather under the dense humidity and as you make your way across the parking lot, you find yourself short of breath and wilting under the heavy air as though you're walking at the bottom of the ocean.

At night the insects and frogs scream loud enough to wake the dead and alligators grunt just over the outer fence. Strange creatures out of myth are said to haunt the region, and hitchhikers talk about seeing weird lights in the windows—a reflection of swamp gas from the marshes nearby, no doubt. 

Teenagers go there to smoke weed, or at least they try. The thick, swampy brush behind the squat building is an open invitation: creep around the side and you'll be hidden from anyone passing by. But the intrepid explorers never get far before the weirdness of the place sends them looking elsewhere. Stories of it don't spread, aren't secretly whispered in various circles, unless you know where to listen.

"Wasn't that a Pizza Hut?" someone asks as they walk past with a friend. The friend glances at the old building and frowns; they have vague memories of that as well. But this Blockbuster has clearly been derelict for longer than they've been alive. Vine-choked windows glare at them, the long-broken glass still jagged and shining in the harsh southern sun. They both shake their heads, shake off the odd feeling, and forget about it as soon as they turn the corner.

There is a winding, weed-choked path through the dense undergrowth at the very back of the building—if you know where to look. If you stumble upon it by mistake, spiderwebs brush against your face, roots rise up out of nowhere to trip you, and every time you reach your hands out, thorns drag at your flesh. If you're unlucky, snakes will coil out of the undergrowth and hiss at you, sharp fangs glittering eerily in the dim light. The air gets heavier and damper until you're gasping for breath and are forced to turn back.

Jesse grimaces as he taps the window at the back of the building in a very specific place. _Tap tap. Tap tap tap._ A pause. _Tap._ A dim light appears in the shape of a door and he presses his palm to the middle of the bricks. "Fuckin' Diagon Alley bullshit," Jesse mumbles as he brushes leaves out of his hair and wipes the sweat from his brow. The Library was around _long_ before Harry Potter became popular, and he still feels slightly irritated that J K Rowling had stolen her idea from Ana all those years ago. Wrestling with his bag, he stubs his cigar out, pushes the door open, and heaves a sigh of relief as he enters the magically cooled and blessedly dry environment. Despite being the custodian of this place, no one is completely unaffected by the spells heavily coating the building outside. 

Except Ana, of course. She built the Library hundreds of years ago and, on her rare visits, always sweeps in looking as regal and put together as ever.

Jesse heaves his bag onto the desk and it falls over with a loud _thud_ , the piles of books inside toppling over from their neatly organised piles. Jesse sighs. It seems he will be starting his day by reorganising the large order of books he picked up earlier that morning. Normal delivery trucks don't stop here, and Jesse thanks his lucky stars that one of the useful items Ana left for him was her modified bottomless book bag. Jesse hasn't tested the extent of its cavernous depths yet—the most books he's tried putting in it was somewhere in the vicinity of a thousand, and he suspects he could fit a large proportion of the Library's available texts into it if he really wanted to. 

Thankfully, the books hadn't become completely disorganised, and he's able to quickly get started on cataloguing them and adding them to the shelving cart for Lena to take care of later on. Some of the ancient tomes pique his interest, dealing with hurricane magic and lightning, and Jesse puts a couple under his desk to take to his small apartment upstairs after he locks up for the night. 

He manages to pass a fairly quiet first hour sipping on the strong coffee he conjured up in the break room and nibbling on a cream cheese bagel. Mondays are always quiet; perhaps he'll have time to do some practice this afternoon. Ana would be on his back if she knew how much he'd been neglecting his arts, and even though she's been away for months, she seems to be able to sense when Jesse needs a kick in the behind.

_what are you doing?_

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, Gabe!" Jesse yells, dropping his pen and damn near knocking his mug off the desk.

_sorry._

"You're not fuckin' sorry," Jesse mutters, and glares at the thick cloud of smoke materializing in front of his desk. Two glowing red eyes peer out of the sooty darkness, and the cloud is shaking a little with what Jesse now knows is mirth. "What d'ya want?"

The response brings to mind the fluttering of raven wings in a darkened cathedral. An untethered voice whispers in Jesse's ear, _jack got stuck in his coffin again._

"Are you serious?" Jesse rubs his hand through his hair and sighs. "Fine. Fine! I'll just stop doing this important work—" It's not important, he was doodling cacti in the margins of his notebook, "—and I'll go rescue yer boyfriend. Again."

 _he's not my boyfriend_.

"Whatever." Jesse groans, pushing his chair back and standing up. He follows the smoke monster through the shelves into the back stacks, then down down _down_ until they hit the very base of the Library. At least Jesse thinks it's as far down as the Library goes. He mapped it all out when he took over the custodianship, a task which took him weeks and resulted in a map that looks like a large origami flower and seems to exist in four dimensions.

It scared him a little and the map now lives in the bottom drawer of his desk.

The basement where Jack lives is, as always, dimly lit. Guttering torches line the dark, moss-covered walls, and the sound of trickling water in the distance echoes strangely in the corridor. Jesse's not even sure this area counts as being part of the Library, but Ana had insisted that everything within the Library's odd sphere of existence is considered a part of it.

Perhaps this part has simply grown organically, shaping the space around it to fit its denizen.

Gabe floats through the heavy, iron-bound door at the end of the corridor and pokes his head back through a moment later to address Jesse.

 _he's still stuck_.

"I did _not_ sign up for this," Jesse mutters.

_yes you did. it was in the contract. i read it._

"Not the point!" Jesse heaves the door open, the rusted hinges screeching loudly in the heavy, damp silence. On the other side of the door is a small room set up like a studio apartment, also lit by ancient torches on the wall. Jesse doesn't know for sure what lights the torches, but assumes it's simple magic: a small fire spell bound to each torch, designed to light up whenever it senses someone—or something—approaching. The torches are strangely at odds with the rest of the furnishings, most notably the large screen television and the expensive-looking recliner upholstered in dark red leather.

"Is that Jesse?" a dusty voice says from the corner of the room. A large coffin lies on the floor, its lid hanging open, and Jesse approaches. 

"Yeah, it's me. You okay, Jack?" He crouches down beside the coffin and glances inside to see the pale, gaunt shape of Jack Morrison inside. He's dressed in his usual blue and red striped pyjamas, and when he sees Jesse, he pushes his plush pachimari under the orange crochet blanket Ana made for him.

"It's my back again," Jack grouses. "Help me sit up."

"Why've you gotta sleep in this thing?" Jesse complains as he slides his metal arm underneath Jack and tugs him upright. The old vampire weighs almost nothing, his papery skin thin and loose over his ancient bones, and Jesse wonders how long it'll be before Gabe peers into Jack’s coffin in the morning to find a pile of dust.

"It's tradition!" Jack splutters. "What kind of vampire would I be if I slept in a _bed_?"

_a more convenient one._

"Shut up! No one asked you!" Jack groans as Jesse helps him stand, the vampire's sharp fingers digging into Jesse's right arm. He'll have bruises later.

_jesse's offered to get you a nice bed, but no. you have to sleep in a fucking coffin like a dumbass._

"He's got a point, Jack," Jesse says. "Just say the word an' I can get the Library to create you a real nice bed in here."

"Not yet," Jack replies, shoving his bony feet into the plush bunny slippers next to the coffin and limping over to his chair. "I'm not so far gone that I need a fucking _bed_."

_he just doesn't want to give up the aesthetic._

Jesse casts his eyes over Jack—the striped pyjamas, the plush slippers, and the orange crochet rug over his shoulders as he wrestles with the handle on the side of the chair to recline it. "I dunno, Gabe," he says, trying to hide the smile on his face, "I think he gave up the aesthetic a long time ago."

"I hate you both," Jack grumbles, reaching down into his mini fridge and grabbing a plastic bottle. He pours thick red liquid into his _World's Okayest Dad_ mug and glares at Gabe and Jesse as he sips on his breakfast.

_i can't believe you drink that cold. you're disgusting._

" _You're_ disgusting!"

"Aaaaand I'm out," Jesse announces, holding his hands up in surrender and backing towards the door. "Have a nice day, guys. Don't call me." He hears them bickering with each other as he goes back down the dark corridor, and chuckles.

They've been here since just after Ana created the Library, and when he signed the contract binding him to the building as its new custodian, Jesse had inherited them as part of the furniture. Never again will Jesse skim read a contract, especially not one which might contain 'you must take care of the smoke monster and his decrepit vampire boyfriend' in small print at the very bottom of an incredibly dense and boring paragraph about procurements.

By the time he gets back to his desk the sun is starting to get high in the sky, filtering through the enormous windows which stretch up almost to the roof. A few patrons have shown up while Jesse was downstairs, all of them regulars. Mei waves down at him from the reading room on the second level, the glass windows already rimmed with frost. Jesse hopes she's not practicing her ice spells in there again—he'd rather not have to deal with frostbite for a second time this year. He can hear Reinhardt banging around in one of the practice rooms nearby and knows better than to go check on him. The last time he tried that, he'd happened upon the big man practicing his shield charge, and almost got himself punted out the front door of the Library.

"Good morning, Jesse!" Angela says cheerfully as she comes through the door. 

"Mornin', Angie!" Jesse says with a grin. She's here most days but is always a welcome sight—her very presence calms and soothes, which is just what Jesse needs after dealing with Gabe and Jack again.

"How are the two monsters doing today?" she asks. Angela has been around almost as long as the Library has, and she breathes a sigh of relief as she takes off her cloak to free her wings. White and gold light fills the atrium as she unfurls them, and a faint chorus of angelic voices raised in rapture shimmers through the air as she shakes the kinks out of the delicate membranes.

Jesse sighs. "If you ever wanted to do me a huge favour, you'd convince Jack to get a goddamn bed."

Angela laughs. "I've known him for centuries! It's never going to happen!" She perches on the edge of one of the chairs on the other side of Jesse's desk. "That dried up husk hasn't changed a single thing about himself for as long as I can remember." 

"I guess not," Jesse concedes. If Angela can't change the old vampire's mind, no one can. Except perhaps Ana. Jesse makes a mental note to ask her about it the next time she stops by for a flying visit.

"What are you cataloguing today?" Angela asks curiously, looking at the large pile of books still on Jesse's desk.

"Oh!" Jesse picks up the book on the top and shows it to her. "Found me a guy who was selling off some of his books so he could retire. This old coot had an entire store of damn fine books, and I got a bunch o' stuff about elemental magic." He shows her the volumes he had tucked away for later, and she pulls one across to have a closer look.

"These look very useful!" she says, glancing through it before handing it back. Her eyes then light upon another book in the pile, and she snaps her fingers. The book sails out of the stack, successfully avoiding toppling it over, and she smiles as she reads the title.

" _'Legendary Cryptids of the Keys_ '? What is this for?"

"Interest, mostly," Jesse replies with a smile. "Gettin' to know the locals, y'know." He leans closer. "I keep hearing stories about the skunk ape that lives in these here parts."

Angela scoffs. "Jesse, I will be the first to acknowledge that a lot of the urban legends of this godforsaken place are based on truth, but even _I_ don't believe in the skunk ape."

"Suit yerself," Jesse says, sitting back in his chair. "Maybe I'll find him, who knows."

"Of course," Angela murmurs, and hands the book back to him. "Anyway, I must—"

She's interrupted by the front door creaking open, and they both turn towards it to see a strange man enter.

Despite the heavy Florida heat outside, the newcomer is well-dressed in slim fitting dark jeans with a pin striped navy waistcoat and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The top few buttons of his shirt are undone—perhaps his sole concession to the climate here—and Jesse's gaze is immediately caught by the strip of pale skin leading down into his shirt. His dark hair is pulled back tightly at the back of his head, sticking up in a tuft not unlike the top of a pineapple, with a gold sash tied neatly around it. A pair of deep brown eyes behind thick-rimmed black glasses flash in Jesse's direction, and before he can say anything, the man strides over to his desk.

Jesse blinks as two spectral dragons suddenly appear out of the very air itself and coil around the man's body, their blue bodies long and slim and not unlike ferrets. One unwraps itself slightly from his arm and hisses softly at Jesse, while the other, curled up around the man's neck, seems content to ignore him.

"Uh, howdy," Jesse says.

"Greetings," Angela adds.

"Good day to you," the stranger says in a low, accented voice. Jesse's eyes rake over his form swiftly before he remembers himself, but _damn_ the man is beautiful. His cheekbones look like they could cut glass, and his impeccably groomed beard makes Jesse feel a little embarrassed by his own scruff. There's also the glorious tattoo winding its way up his left arm, and from the tiny glimpse of ink Jesse can see on the hint of chest the man is showing, it goes all the way up his arm and across his pectoral. It's an amazing sight—all blue and white swirling clouds and scales to match the dragons which, as Jesse watches in surprise, begin to fade away like mist until they vanish completely into the tattoo.

"You after using the Library?" Jesse asks.

"I am," the man replies. He frowns and scratches the back of his head. "How does this work? Do I get a library card?"

Jesse chuckles. "You sure do. Here, fill this out to get started." He pushes the clipboard with the new member form on it across the desk, and the man picks it up and looks at it quizzically. "I'm also gonna need two forms of ID and a proof of address," Jesse adds.

The man purses his lips. "That could present an issue. I don't actually have an address at the moment."

"Travelling, then?"

He nods.

"Okay, well, we can work around that. You can use the Library as much as you please but you won't be able to check any books out. That okay?"

The man nods again and takes the clipboard. "Thank you—" he looks down at Jesse's name tag, "—Jesse." 

It's hard not to watch the strange man as he takes the clipboard over to a nearby desk. He glances over the form once before attacking it with speed and efficiency, a small frown pushing his thick eyebrows together. The spirit dragons hang over his shoulders as he writes, occasionally lifting their little whiskered faces to nuzzle his cheeks. He bats them away with a smile, and Jesse can't help but smile himself at the sight. His gaze travels down the man's body, blatantly staring, and he tilts his head to admire the way the waistcoat emphasizes his trim waist and well-developed upper body. The man's wider in the shoulders than Jesse, and as the fabric of his shirt strains over his shoulders and upper arm muscles while he writes, Jesse bites his lip.

He quickly looks away when the man stands up to return, and catches Angela watching him. She stands up to leave, giving him a smirk and a wink, and he rolls his eyes at her before schooling his face and turning to take the clipboard offered to him. Jesse glances down at it and smiles. "Right! Hanzo, is it? Let's get you set up in the computer." He drags his laptop over and cranks it open, and Hanzo stifles a laugh.

"I'm sorry," he apologises when Jesse glances up at him. "I've just never seen a computer that old."

"Oh, this old thing?" Jesse chuckles. "Yeah, I've been begging my boss for an upgrade for years, but she's old-fashioned." He smiles at Hanzo and pulls up a new tab to start entering his details. "Demon hunter, yeah?"

Hanzo nods. "I suppose you would say it runs in the family." The spectral dragons perk up, their whiskery snouts quivering slightly, and Hanzo murmurs a word to them, too quiet for Jesse to hear. They calm down immediately, once again melding into his tattoo.

"Okay, well, good. Just, uh. Avoid the readin' room on level three in the north corner on Wednesday afternoons, okay?" He doesn't elaborate, and ignores Hanzo's questioning glance. He'll probably find out soon enough. 

The most interesting part of new member applications is always how they came to find the Library. He's had all sorts—it came to me in a dream, I saw it in the maple syrup on my pancakes, the Devil himself left me a note with a map in exchange for a beer. There's no limit to the number of ways people can discover the Library, and Jesse is disappointed that Hanzo has kept it short and simple.

"Followed a tip?" Jesse frowns and looks up at Hanzo. "Care to elaborate?"

"Is that necessary?"

Jesse gives a half-shrug. "Well, not strictly speaking, but everyone's story is different and this job is not nearly as entertaining as you might think. C'mon, indulge a bored librarian."

Hanzo's stern expression is unchanging. "As I said. I had a tip. If I am not required to elaborate, I will leave it at that. If you don't mind."

"Fine, fine." Jesse sighs. "But if you change yer mind, you know where I am." He finishes entering all the boring details in the computer before turning around with a brand new library card for Hanzo. He takes it gingerly and raises a single eyebrow when it flashes red.

"Don't mind that, it's just the Library recognising you. You need a hand getting started?"

"I have used a library before," Hanzo says stiffly, and Jesse tries not to laugh.

"Okay, well, good luck. Now that you're officially a member—albeit without borrowing capabilities—the books won't hurl themselves off the shelves at you, nor will the chairs attempt to eat you. Be aware of doors that vanish after you've entered a room, and for the love of God don't listen to the artwork. It's chaotic and will lead yer ass astray. In fact, don't even look at it too closely or you could find yourself in a world of trouble."

Hanzo frowns slightly. "And if I get lost? Do you have a map?"

"None that'll help. Stick to well-lit and wide corridors and don't go investigating anything that you think you saw outta the corner of your eye. Don't take any funny little staircases or slide through convenient gaps in the shelves which open up at opportune moments. Keep your phone on you and call the front desk if you need help. Number's on your card there."

"Is there an online catalogue?"

Jesse laughs out loud. "I wish! I'm workin' on it. But that job's beyond one man. Card catalogue's over there." He indicates to the other side of the atrium and Hanzo's eyes widen at the wall of card catalogues stretching up at least fifteen feet. There are ladders.

"Most people spend a day or two there before they venture further in," he explains. "Find what you need there—you can keep the cards here at the desk under your name—then stock up on food and water and dive right in."

Hanzo nods silently, a stiff expression on his face, and heads over to the catalogue. 

 

As always happens when Jesse gets completely immersed in his work and is lucky enough to be undisturbed, he becomes completely unaware of the passage of time. When he raises his head what feels like only a short time later, he's surprised to see that several hours have passed and the sun has moved a considerable distance across the sky. Hanzo's still thumbing through card catalogues while the spirit dragons fly in and out of the little drawers. Jesse's curious to know what kind of magic he has beyond being a demon hunter—a profession that requires skill, for sure, but not necessarily any magic. But he wouldn't have been able to enter the Library if he didn't have magic, and Jesse finds himself watching the man from afar, hoping for a slight hint of what he can do. Perhaps the spirit dragons are not just pets...

" _JESSE!"_ A shriek comes from the stairwell leading to the upper levels, and Jesse's on his feet instantly. He recognises Zarya's voice, and anything which makes her scream like that is probably a threat. He ignores Hanzo asking him what's going on and legs it up the stairs to where Zarya researches her gravity magic on level four. As soon as he gets to the top of the stairs he sinks up to the knees into stinking, soggy mud and water, and he lets out a little shriek himself.

"What the fuck?" he exclaims, and Zarya, standing in the doorway down the corridor, raises her hands in defence.

"Was not me! I did nothing!"

"Is this a _swamp_ in my library?" Jesse asks. The question is redundant—the entire corridor is filled with thick, muddy water, the surface coated in green algae. Vines drip down from the ceiling and he can see roots from a cypress tree emerging from another doorway. He wades through the warm and smelly water towards the next doorway to see if he can find the culprit. He's pretty sure he knows who it is—this particular room contains books on swamp magic, and it's likely that Zenyatta has had a little accident.

He's not wrong—he enters the room, cursing the mud that's now squelching through his boots, to find Zenyatta floating above the water and wringing his hands. "Jesse!" he says. "I am very sorry! I seem to have—"

"Had an accident? Yeah, I figured." Jesse scratches his head. "What the hell did you do?"

"It was supposed to be an illusion. A defensive ploy—people will always be reluctant to wade through a swamp. But it seems to have gone awry."

"You don't say." Jesse glances around the room. Thankfully the books are protected from all forms of magic otherwise most of them would have been lost decades ago to misfired spells, but it's still going to be a nightmare to clean up. 

Movement on the other side of the room catches his eye and Jesse leaps onto a desk with a curse. "Is that an _alligator_? Jesus Christ!" The knobbly beast floats past slowly, its eyes swivelling to look at Jesse as it passes, and it makes its way out into the corridor. There's another shriek from Zarya and the sound of splashing as she makes an escape, and then a high-pitched scream which doesn't sound like Zarya.

Jesse wonders who the hell that was—it didn't sound like Angela or Mei, and he can't imagine Amelie ever making a sound like that. He's surprised when Hanzo wades into the room and leaps up onto the desk next to Jesse. 

"Nice scream," he says, and Hanzo glares at him.

"There is a swamp in your library," Hanzo points out.

"No shit," Jesse says through gritted teeth. "Complete with alligator. What are you doing here?"

"I was curious, so I followed you." His dragons poke their heads out of his collar and look around the room quizzically. "I feel like this might have been an error of judgement."

"Does that book tell you how to dispel the swamp, Zen?" Jesse asks.

"I am afraid I have already tried that," the omnic says, his voicebox vibrating with stress.

"Okay, well, it's not my area of expertise but let's give this a try." Jesse is not particularly good with water magic. His magic is born of the desert—shimmering sun, the hot desert air so dry it sucks the water right out of you, dusty red earth and arid plains. He hates the water, hates Florida's humid dampness, and just being in this room with a fucking _swamp_ is making him want to hiss in displeasure like a cat. He can feel it dampening his magic, making it curl into his bones and never want to come out.

But he's been practicing. Ana would be proud of him. He concentrates, murmuring a spell under his breath and raising a hand. A hot wind rushes through the room, lifting Jesse's hair, smelling of dust and heat. He can almost _taste_ the desert air, the scorching fire on his tongue and in his lungs. He's distantly aware of Hanzo crouched next to him on the desk, watching him as his eyes turn a deep, fiery red and the air around him shimmers like a mirage.

There's a loud gurgle, and Jesse glances down to see the water level slowly starting to fall. It's going to be a while before the swamp vanishes completely, but at least the water will be gone quite soon. Jesse sighs and slumps over a little, feeling the toll of the water magic in his bones.

"Are you well?" Hanzo asks, sounding concerned.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Nothing a strong coffee and a nap won't fix. Maybe even a stint in his favourite room—the one with the roaring fire to dry him right out. He can feel his magic sizzling in his fingertips, and he gives his hands a shake. Water drips from the ends of his fingers, chased by a hint of flame. That feels _much_ better.

"Thank you, Jesse," Zenyatta says, and he clasps his hands together and bows. "And again, I am terribly sorry for the bother."

"Hey, I've had worse," Jesse replies, giving Zenyatta a nod. "It's not a problem. Just, in the future, maybe use a practise room if you're gonna try a new spell?"

They hop down off the desk and venture out into the corridor. The water is draining from here as well, but Hanzo nudges him and points down to the far end. Jesse glances over just in time to see the end of a scaly tail vanish through a door, and he sighs.

"Well, ain't that just the _worst_." He sighs again and rubs his face. 

"What will you do about that crocodile?" 

"Alligator," Jesse corrects absently. 

"Of course. That is _clearly_ what is important right now."

What _will_ he do about it? He'd been hoping that his spell would remove the alligator as well, but it seems to have had a little more permanence about it. But he's covered in stinking swamp water up to the knees, and he's pretty sure the alligator is going to be a problem for future Jesse. Besides, it doesn't have a library card, and the Library is not kind to those who venture within without its express permission.

"I'll put up a sign," he says eventually. _Beware - alligator on the loose_. Everyone will love that, particularly Reinhardt. He'll probably want to try to hunt it. 

There's a snort from next to him, and he glances over to see Hanzo covering his face as he laughs quietly. He tries to school his features when he notices Jesse looking at him, but his dragons give him away—they're coiling up and down his arms, shaking with glee, and Jesse swears he can almost hear them giggling.

"C'mon, let's get back downstairs," Jesse says wearily. "Sorry about your pants, though."

Hanzo glances down and sighs at the sight of his jeans drenched with stinking swamp water up to the knees. "I have had worse," he says giving Jesse a wry smile.

"I'd offer to fix that for you, but water magic ain't my strong suit," Jesse remarks as they head downstairs. "Might end up setting fire to them."

Hanzo waves the offer away. "Do not worry. I will dry."

 

They part ways in the atrium—Hanzo back to his search of the card catalogue, Jesse back to his desk. He notices Hanzo surreptitiously removing his boots under the desk to let his feet dry off, and Jesse covers his mouth to conceal a smile at the sight of him climbing ladders in socked feet. Brightly coloured socks, too. He'd expected something black and business-like, not the rainbow paper cranes decorating Hanzo's feet. His ankles are extraordinarily delicate and his feet are a slightly odd shape, and Jesse cocks his head to the side, wondering if they're prosthetic. 

The rest of the afternoon is blessedly quiet. Jesse helps Mei find an obscure text down in the archives, surreptitiously reads two chapters of his new book on cryptids, and manages to catalogue a good chunk of the books he brought in that morning. Throughout the whole day, Hanzo works silently and without cease, his pile of catalogue cards growing steadily.

Finally darkness starts to creep across the high glass windows. The setting sun turns the entire atrium a golden red, and Jesse catches Hanzo glancing up from his work. He's pulled a fair number of cards from the catalogue drawers, and they're sitting in a neat pile next to his slim laptop on a desk.

Jesse stretches. Everyone else has left by now; it's just him and Hanzo. He's about to get up and head over to tell Hanzo it's closing time, when he sees the smoke monster start to come through the catalogue wall. Right next to Hanzo.

"Hanzo!" Jesse calls out, about to warn him that Gabe isn't going to harm him, but it's too late. Hanzo takes one look at the twisting, coiling mass of black smoke with its red demonic eyes, and appears to react instinctively. He raises his arm and shouts something in Japanese that Jesse doesn't quite catch, and the two spirit dragons—no longer small and cute—burst from his hand as his eyes light up blue. Static fills the air and there's a rush of wind, the noise loud enough that Jesse feels like he's in the middle of a hurricane. A bright flash of blue lights up the atrium as the dragons rush towards their target in a spiral of destruction.

Gabe doesn't stand a chance. There's an unholy shriek as the dragons pass through him, tearing his form into particles, and once they've vanished, there's nothing left but a slight darkness in the air.

"Gabe!" Jesse yells, rushing over. As annoying as the creature is, he's still Jesse's responsibility and—as much as it pains him to admit it—his friend. The faded smoke shifts slightly, groaning as Gabe tries to pull himself back together, and Jesse hears a whisper.

 _what … the fuck … was that._ Every word is breathed out slowly and painfully.

"Oh good, you're alive," he says, relieved. 

"What _is_ that thing?" Hanzo asks, watching from behind Jesse. "Do you have a _demon_ here?"

"This is Gabe," Jesse introduces him. "Gabe, you gonna be okay?"

 _yeah … just need … to rest._ The smoke, now hanging close to the ground, slinks slowly back through the catalogue, and Jesse sighs ruefully.

"Sorry 'bout that. I shoulda warned you about Gabe. He's harmless, really."

"Is it a demon?" Hanzo asks again, glaring at the spot Gabe just vanished, and Jesse shakes his head quickly.

"No! No. I mean, I don't think so. He's just Gabe. He's been here since the Library was built. He just likes to float around. I swear he's harmless."

Hanzo looks chastened. "I injured him." He clenches his fist, and the dragons, back to their smaller forms, wrap around his hand consolingly. He glances down at them and seems to listen for a moment before nodding. "They inform me that they did not hurt him too badly."

"He'll be fine, he's been through worse." Jesse barks out a laugh. "You shoulda seen him the first time Fareeha tried to take him out! Man, there was soot on the walls for _weeks_."

Hanzo still looks uncomfortable, and Jesse pats him awkwardly on the shoulder. "C'mon, I gotta close this joint up. Want me to put those cards aside for you?"

"Yes. Thank you." Hanzo quickly gathers up the cards and hands them to Jesse before sliding his laptop into a bag. "I will be back tomorrow, if that is alright."

"O' course!" Jesse blurts out. "Hopefully no alligators tomorrow, but I can't guarantee nothing. If it's not alligators, it'll be something even weirder." He chuckles. "This one time, we ended up with an honest to god woolly mammoth in here. That was _hell_ on the carpets, let me tell you."

Hanzo's eyes widen. "I can see you have a lot of stories." He smiles slightly. "Perhaps one day there will be the opportunity for you to tell me some more of them."

Jesse's mouth falls open and all he can do is stare as Hanzo makes his way to the exit. The door closes behind him and Jesse is left alone in the Library holding a handful of catalogue cards. He glances down and starts thumbing through them, interested in seeing what Hanzo is researching.

A frown deepens the faint lines on his forehead as he flicks through. Demonic possession, exorcism, shapeshifters—Jesse puts the cards down and pinches the bridge of his nose. He's going to be wanting to look at the books that Jesse keeps locked up. Whatever it is that Hanzo is hunting, it's dangerous, and not something a person should handle on their own. He puts the cards in his top drawer with Hanzo's name scrawled on a post-it, and sets about shutting down the Library for the night.

 

The Library is always at its best at night time, Jesse thinks. He can hear the building creak as it cools down, and the usual strange noises start to emanate from the upper levels. During his first few weeks here he barely slept a wink, unable to shut out the night noises. He'd almost moved out, determined that free rent wasn't worth the trouble of sleeping in this terrifying place. But the prospect of having to venture out into the Florida air on a regular basis, along with the strange dearth of available accommodation in the area, convinced him to give it a try. He's used to the noises now, and doesn't think he would be able to sleep properly without them.

He absently whistles a tune as he heats up a microwave meal in his tiny kitchenette before taking it to the couch and flicking the television on. His favourite cooking show is about to start, but as he munches on his soggy burrito and absent mindedly watches the opening credits, he can't get his mind off Hanzo and the way he used his spirit dragons to attack.

Ten minutes later he puts his plate down and turns the television off. There are benefits of living in a huge and magical library, and he grins as he makes his way through the dark, labyrinthine corridors towards the shelves which house the books on spirit beasts.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2: Jesse takes Hanzo deeper into the Library, where they encounter a dangerous foe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the lovely feedback I've received so far! I hope you enjoy this chapter. :)

Jesse wakes in the morning with a scream. No matter how many times Gabe decides it'll be funny to lurk over his bed and have him open his eyes to a demonic smoke monster, he never gets used to it.

"Fuck off," he mumbles, rolling over. He glances at his alarm clock; there's still an hour until he has to get up. 

_you could have told me about the alligator._

"I put up a sign," Jesse says through gritted teeth. "It says, 'attention: there is an alligator loose in the Library. Be careful'." He pulls his pillow over his head.

_it's in jack's coffin._

Jesse raises himself up on his elbows. "He's a _vampire_. He can deal with it. Now _git_!"

_but—_

"You're only my responsibility between the hours of nine in the morning and six at night!" Jesse retorts. "It's in the contract!"

_fine, but—_

Jesse throws a pillow in the general direction of the whispers, and they finally fade away. He groans and goes back to sleep.

This turns out to be a mistake. When he eventually makes his way downstairs, coffee and bagel in hand, he almost drops them at the sight of a dried-up alligator corpse propped up in his desk chair.

"The fuck!" he exclaims. There's a dry, dusty chuckle from behind him, reminiscent of cracking open ancient books and hearing their spines creak. He turns to see Jack sitting over by the card catalogues, his thick black umbrella shielding him from the early morning light.

"That'll teach you," he huffs.

"Goddammit, Jack," Jesse groans. "I was gonna take care of it!"

"It was in my _coffin_ , Jesse."

"How in the hell did it get in your coffin? Your room is sealed!"

Jack shrugs. "Magic."

"More like magic smoke monster pulling a prank," Jesse mutters as he puts his breakfast down and ponders how best to get rid of the body. It's been drained dry, not a drop of moisture left in it, and part of him is impressed that Jack, who Jesse caught looking up walking frames online a few weeks back, was able to kill it _and_ suck every bit of fluid out of its body before depositing it in his chair.

His first patron chooses that moment to arrive and, not for the first time, Jesse wishes the doors weren't set to automatically unlock at opening time. Some days it'd be nice to just keep them locked for an extra few hours. He turns to see who it is and is pleasantly surprised to see that Hanzo is back so early. 

This is not, however, a scene he would have wanted anyone, particularly the attractive new patron, to walk in on. There's still a dessicated alligator in his chair and a vampire dressed in blue and red striped pyjamas sitting under a large umbrella by the card catalogues.

Hanzo freezes upon seeing the tableau before him. "Are you open yet?" He shifts as if he's about to turn around and leave again.

Jesse blurts out, "No! I mean, yeah, Library's open." He gestures at the alligator. "We, uh, found it."

"I can see that," Hanzo says, staring at the corpse for a moment before turning his gaze over to Jack. He still looks like he's about to bolt or—more likely—send his spirit dragons after Jack, who is obviously a vampire. Said spirit dragons poke their heads out from his collar and hiss at Jack. Jack hisses back, baring his fangs.

 _don't even think about it, new guy._ Gabe materialises right behind Hanzo who, to his credit, doesn't even twitch.

"Okay, okay." Jesse steps in, his hands raised. "Y'all need to calm down before someone gets a dragon to the face. Jack? Are you stayin'?"

"I just wanted to see your reaction," Jack admits. He starts to stand up and groans, clearly struggling. Gabe swiftly floats over to him and hovers uselessly, and Jesse can hear him whispering quietly to Jack as the decrepit vampire manages to get his feet under him and starts doing his old man shuffle back into the dark areas of the library. Gabe follows him protectively, looking back once to glare at Hanzo with a warning clear in his ember-red eyes.

"Well, my day's going great so far," Jesse says brightly. "How're you?"

"Better than you, I think," Hanzo says, looking back at the alligator.

"Yeah." Jesse sighs. "That. Wanna help me with it, now that you're here?"

Hanzo wrinkles his nose. "What do you plan to do with it?"

"Chuck it in the swamp. Wouldn't be the first time."

Hanzo considers it. "It would be terribly rude of me to sit down over there and watch you struggle with this," he replies, a slight smile quirking the corner of his mouth. "Besides, I dressed more appropriately today." He indicates his outfit, which is less denim and pinstripes, and more sweatpants, workboots, and an incongruously bright yellow t-shirt. When he turns to deposit his laptop and bag on the desk near the catalogues, Jesse notices that there's a gold dragon emblazoned on the seat of his pants, and he grins widely at the sight.

"Thanks, darlin'," Jesse says, relieved. Even though it's only a small gator, it still probably weighs about five hundred pounds. Less now, since Jack drained it of all its fluids, but still a considerable weight. He gets his arms under its front legs as Hanzo bends down to grab its hind legs, and together they slowly manhandle the unfortunate creature towards the doorway. Jesse finds himself distracted as they move—the short, tight sleeves of Hanzo's t-shirt only serve to emphasize his biceps more than ever, and Jesse's trying really hard to concentrate on the dead alligator instead of ogling Hanzo's upper body. The dragons poke their heads out and whuffle softly at Jesse, and he grins at them.

They're almost at the doorway when it opens to admit Mei and Zarya, who look first horrified and then amused at the sight of them half carrying, half dragging a dead alligator across the atrium.

"You found alligator friend!" Zarya cries out, a big smile on her face. Mei nimbly steps out of the way, but Zarya immediately drops her bag and comes over to help. With the strong woman's assistance, the alligator is swiftly dragged out the door and a fair way into the swampy brush outside. It'll be consumed in no time by both the swamp and the strong magic, and Jesse is glad to see it go.

Back in the Library, Zarya and Mei head upstairs to their usual haunts. Hanzo and Jesse take one look at each other before heading to the bathrooms to wash the alligator remains off their hands. The bathrooms in the Library are things of beauty—the dark granite columns which feature in the rest of the building are in here as well, along with exquisite marble floors and shining ceramic fixtures. There are none of the painful fluorescent lights seen in public bathrooms the world over, and they are always sparkling clean thanks to the intense self-cleansing spells Ana imbued the facilities with. Water never stays spilled on the countertops, accidents in the cubicles vanish as soon as they touch any surface, and there is always a clean, fresh scent of pine and mint.

"An interesting morning," Hanzo notes as they wash up and dry off on the clean, fluffy towels beside the sinks. That's another thing these bathrooms have going for them—no noisy hand dryers, no messy paper towels. Just soft towels with that fresh-out-of-the-dryer feel. Hanzo chuckles when one of his dragons pulls a towel off the rack and buries itself in its folds.

Jesse shrugs. "Gotta be honest with you, this is only _slightly_ out of the ordinary." He barks out a laugh. "This one time, this cloud of pink gas managed to get past the wards. You ever hear tell of the pink cloud that eats people?"

Hanzo shakes his head, looking intrigued, and leans down to let his stray dragon slide back into his arm.

"Well," Jesse begins, and as they walk back to the atrium, he regales Hanzo with a highly exaggerated account of the Carnivorous Pink Cloud and the one time it got into the Library. By the time they get back Hanzo is laughing, unable to keep a straight face at the picture Jesse paints of himself trying to catch the damn thing in the vacuum cleaner.

They go to part ways at Jesse's desk when he remembers the cards. "Oh hey, yer gonna need these," he says as he takes them out of his top drawer and offers them to Hanzo. "And uh, if you need any help—with _anything_ —let me know." 

Hanzo looks at him with his brows slightly wrinkled. "Thank you," he says slowly, "I will keep that in mind." He takes the cards and immediately gets to work, and Jesse finally gets to sit down and have his coffee and bagel. 

_He didn't say no_.

 

Jesse's morning is fairly boring after the excitement of the alligator, but it's made a little more interesting by the arrival of Lena and Lucio, his two shelving assistants. They're both incredibly fast—Lena with her chronal accelerator, Lucio with his skates—and Jesse immediately puts them to work on the several cart loads of books that have piled up since they were last here. As they're about to zip away, Lena notices Hanzo, and turns to Jesse.

"Who's that?" she asks quietly, which for Lena is as loud as a normal speaking voice. Lucio pulls close as well, looking curiously at Hanzo. He's currently balanced on top of a ladder, one foot on a rung and the other somehow finding a foothold on a crack between some shelves as he flicks through a bunch of cards, and Jesse winces at the sight. Seemingly oblivious, Hanzo pushes his glasses up his nose, his stance unwavering as he reads. It's incredibly attractive, not to mention impressive to behold.

"New patron," he says evasively, having noticed Hanzo glance up briefly when Lena spoke. "Doing some personal research."

"He's _cute_ ," Lucio says in an actual whisper, and Jesse nods. 

"Mmmhmm." Hanzo's stretching even further now, doing what looks like actual gymnastics to stay on his perch while he reaches for another drawer of cards. He could have climbed down and moved the ladder, but he seems content to instead risk his neck. Jesse doesn't mind the view at all—the fabric of Hanzo’s sweatpants is stretched tight over his thighs and ass, and Jesse sighs quietly.

Lucio pats him on the back. "I'll leave you to it," he says with a chuckle, and Lena gives him a big thumbs up as she races away with a cart. Lucio winks at him before skating away with his own cartload of books. 

Hanzo glances over at him, catching him staring, and Jesse whips his gaze away, feeling a hot blush rise in his cheeks. He hears a thud as Hanzo's booted feet hit the floor, and the slight creak of floorboards as he makes his way over to Jesse's desk.

"Everythin' okay?" Jesse asks, glancing up at him and hoping the heat in his cheeks isn't too visible.

"I am ready to venture into the shelves," Hanzo says firmly. "I will need to know where to start."

"Right, right!" Jesse exclaims, taking the cards Hanzo offers him and flicking through them. "Well, yer in luck, a lot of these are in the same general area." He glances up at Hanzo. "But one of these is in a restricted section. I ain't lettin' you go in there alone, so I'll be comin' with you. We can go there first."

Hanzo nods. "You aren't too busy?" he asks.

"Nah, this is more important. Helping people find what they're after and keepin' 'em alive while doing so is part of the job description and, I gotta say, it's a lot more interesting than cataloguing a pile of books about wendigo." He rummages around on his desk until he finds the call bell and places it on the counter in front of him. "Alright! If you've got all yer stuff, let's get goin'."

Venturing into the stacks is always a bit nerve-wracking for the first time user. Hanzo watches in concern as Jesse gets two flashlights out of his desk drawer, tossing one to Hanzo, and then passes him a GPS tracker.

"So's I can find you if you get lost," he explains, and Hanzo takes it with a little trepidation.

"Should I have brought some bread so we could leave a trail of crumbs?"

"Nah, they'd just get eaten." Jesse doesn't explain further, and when Hanzo's brows draw together in a frown, he grins. "Just havin' you on. You'll be safe with me, don't worry."

 

The restricted section housing the book Hanzo needs is a good way up into the Library, and the cheerful ding of the creaky elevator is somewhat incongruous considering the door opens to a pitch black hallway.

"Uh, Jesse," Hanzo starts, and Jesse senses the man next to him tense and crouch slightly, ready for action. His dragons manifest in a flash of blue light, just bright enough to illuminate the area around him.

"Yeah, I know. Give it a moment." He steps out into the darkness and with a soft _whoosh_ , the lamps light up, showing a narrow hallway with doors at regular intervals. Ancient looking works of art in frames that used to be bright gold once upon a time line the walls. "Get yer flashlight out, you're gonna need it. That is, unless your beasties can glow a bit brighter. We don't get light from outside coming in this deep, and the lamps only do so much. And don't look at the paintings."

There's a muffled _click_ as Hanzo switches on his flashlight, and Jesse gets him to shine it onto the catalogue cards he's carrying to check they’re heading off in the right direction.

"This place is a bit of a labyrinth, so don't lag behind." He glances up at Hanzo, hoping he'll take him seriously. Hanzo has a look of stoic determination on his face highlighted by the shadows the flashlight casts across his features. His dragons have retreated, and all Jesse can see of them is little whiskered noses just above Hanzo's collar. 

"Lead on." Hanzo's voice is soft and deep in the dim light, and Jesse sets off down the corridor, lighting up his own flashlight as he goes. In his head he can see the route they need to take—left, right, left again, two rights, down a narrow set of spiral stairs, then right, left, left. He doesn't go too fast, keeping an ear out for Hanzo's footsteps behind him, and pausing whenever he hears his companion stop.

"Remember what I said about the artwork," Jesse reminds him when he turns back to find Hanzo with his flashlight trained on one particularly grim piece. The canvas is so dark it's almost black, and the demons painted upon it are barely visible apart from their gleaming red eyes. Hanzo leans in to take a closer look as they seem to dance off the surface of the painting, and Jesse grabs him and yanks him backward.

"What the—" Hanzo begins.

"Look," Jesse says, pointing back at the painting. Thin wisps of black—paint, smoke, or just plain concentrated evil, Jesse's never been sure—are starting to seep out of the canvas, reaching and clawing like fingers, and when they find nothing close by, they slowly retreat back into the painting. Hanzo's dragons hiss from their hiding places.

"Why do you have such a thing?" Hanzo breathes, backing away until he's pressed firmly up against Jesse. He can feel the man breathing slow and deep, and he puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Can't get rid of it," Jesse explains. "C'mon, we're almost there. It's safer in the rooms." 

"It's hard to breathe in these corridors," Hanzo says, his voice tight. "I am…grateful for your presence."

"Gotta admit, sweetheart, it took me months of creepin' around carefully and a _lot_ of scares before I got to know all the ins and outs of this place. Besides, I had help."

"From whom?" Hanzo asks. He seems to want to keep Jesse talking, to distract him from what just about happened.

"Ana," Jesse replies. He leads Hanzo through a narrow doorway into the spiral stairwell. "She built this place a few hundred years ago. Created most of the magic that went into it herself." He sighs. "She spent months with me, teaching me how this old place works and how to survive."

"And how did you come to be here?" He sounds genuinely curious. "You are not from Florida, I take it?"

Jesse laughs quietly. "Nope. Can't stand the water in the air, which I think you noticed yesterday. Nah, I'm from New Mexico. All desert and dry heat there. She found me in a carnival, of all places."

"A _carnival_? Excuse me, this is very narrow." 

Jesse turns back to see Hanzo almost stuck between the wall and the center pole of the spiral staircase. He winces as his bare arms scrape against the stone, and Jesse can't help chuckling a little at the man's predicament. "That's 'cause your shoulders are too wide, darlin'."

"It has never been a problem before," Hanzo grouses, and manages to turn sideways so he can move a little easier. It slows their progress, but thankfully they only need to go down one level. "Why does the elevator not take us here?"

"Because it's dangerous," Jesse replies as they reach the landing. "Through here. We're almost there. This corridor is the most dangerous part of the trip, y’hear? For the love of God don't listen to anything you hear apart from my voice."

"Of course." 

They're halfway down the corridor when Jesse hears it. A soft whisper, shadows given voice. _Jesse… Jesse…_ He ignores it and continues, but the whispering gets louder. It's accompanied by the flutter of wings and a faint, hissing sound that immediately has Jesse looking around for a rattlesnake. He's about to break into a jog when he suddenly hears Hanzo's name in the whisper as well.

"Don't listen to it!" he says sharply, and turns back to see, to his horror, that Hanzo has vanished. One of the doors nearby—which had definitely been closed when Jesse walked past—slams shut, and he hears an angry shout from within.

"Hanzo!" he calls, rushing up to the door and wrenching the handle. It's not locked, but there's a force on the other side keeping it closed. He bangs on it, shouting for Hanzo, but to no avail. Taking a deep breath, Jesse steps back and closes his eyes. He can deal with this. He's dealt with worse. He takes a deep breath and a hot wind fills the corridor, tousling his hair, and when he breathes out again, the air he exhales is so heated it almost shimmers in the dim light. His vision turns red and he's about to burst that goddamn door down when he hears Hanzo yell something in Japanese on the other side.

Jesse’s heard that before, and he steps back, holding his spell in for now. There's a roar and a cold wind that chases away the desert heat, and the door bursts open as two bright blue spirit dragons spill into the corridor. They're followed swiftly by Hanzo, who yanks the door closed behind him and rushes to Jesse's side.

"Ouch, you're _hot_!" he exclaims, taking a step back.

"Why thank you," Jesse says with a grin, tipping an imaginary hat. He slowly releases his magic, feeling the heat subside, and coughs. A small gout of flame bursts out of a nostril, and he claps his hand over his face. "Sorry," he mumbles, mortified, as the corridor fills with the distinctive smell of burnt hair.

Hanzo looks slightly horrified. "That was—that was—"

"Sorry," Jesse says again. "I, uh, that doesn't usually happen."

"The thing that grabbed me, or the fact that you just snorted fire out of your nose?"

"Bit of both," Jesse replies, and the mood lightens. He waggles his eyebrows comically at Hanzo. "Maybe you should take my hand from here on."

He means it as a joke, and is surprised when Hanzo nods and steps up next to him, taking hold of his right hand. His grip is strong, and Jesse hopes his hand isn't too sweaty. If it's not now, it will be soon just from having Hanzo this close. He takes a deep breath and leads Hanzo onwards.

Thankfully the rest of the trip is without incident, and Jesse eventually pushes the door open into a large and cavernous room. It's entirely constructed of rock, and Jesse has a theory that wherever the Library exists—whether it's on the same plane as Earth or a different one—it's built into the side of a cliff. Either that, or the entry into this room is one of the many portals to another place that exist in the Library. Ana has shown him a few of them and warned him about a few others, but admitted last time she was here that even she wasn't sure where the portals all were now. Jesse plans to find out one day. The air in here is cold and dry, and he can see small puffs of condensation when he breathes out. 

"This is—not what I expected," Hanzo murmurs beside him. He lets go of Jesse's hand and moves further into the room. The bookshelves are carved into the very rock itself, filled with ancient tomes ranging from palm-sized books all the way up to the ones you need two people to open. Across the room are a series of iron doors, and Jesse ambles over to them and gets out his keys.

"Look out," he warns, and unlocks the large padlock holding the doors closed. He senses Hanzo taking a step back as he pulls the heavy iron doors open with a loud _screech_ to reveal another set of bookshelves.

"What am I looking out for?" Hanzo asks, coming up beside him and peering in. "Why are these ones behind those iron doors?"

"Because," Jesse replies. He pulls out the catalogue cards in his pocket and glances at them before running his finger along the spines of the books. "Here you go." He grunts, pulling out a thick leather bound volume. He places it in Hanzo's outstretched hands and locks the doors again. "That book can't leave this room," he warns. "There are wards here which it can _not_ be allowed to pass through."

"Noted," Hanzo says, taking the book over to one of the desks. For such a dangerous book, it’s surprisingly small, and he carefully pulls on the soft white gloves Jesse hands him. The book itself is still locked, though, and he glances over at Jesse curiously.

"Before you get started, there's some stuff you gotta know," He pulls up a chair next to Hanzo and sits down. "This book's about possession. Now, as a demon hunter, I know you're probably well versed in dealing with possession and suchlike, but this book's gonna be different from anything you're used to."

Hanzo's eyes narrow. "I have dealt with many forms of possession. And I have avoided succumbing to it every time."

"Good," Jesse says. "That'll stand you in good stead with this here book full o' evil." He slaps his hand down on the cover. "This'll try to take over your mind. This ain't demon possession, or shapeshifter, or whatever the hell else out there likes to hop in and outta people's minds and wear their bodies like a meat suit. This is spirit possession, which is the worst kind 'cause you ain't getting rid of that shit once it's in you. It takes you over whole and destroys your mind. Now, you gotta be ready for it. You gotta avoid it. _Resist_ it. Because if you don't, and this gets into your mind, I'm locking you in this room and sealing the door so you can't ever get out."

Hanzo's eyes widen. "You would leave me here."

Jesse nods. "In a hot minute, sweetheart. If what's in that book escapes the wards on this room, it'll suck up the souls of every living thing in the rest of the Library. I will damn well sacrifice you and every book in this room to prevent that from happening. Are you sure you still wanna have a look through it?"

Hanzo nods, his expression hardening. "I do. Lives depend on it. And I understand—I would do the same in your situation." He looks down at the cover, a frown on his face. "It is worth the risk," he says quietly.

"Glad we understand each other." Jesse places his palm on the cover of the book, and a few seconds later there's a faint _hiss_ and the lock clicks open. "I'll be over on the other side of the room. I might as well clean up a bit while I'm here, and if you need me, or if you think you're in trouble, you yell for me." He watches Hanzo take a deep breath and carefully open the cover of the book.

Jesse busies himself around the other, less dangerous shelves. Oh, all the books here are deadly in their own ways, but none quite so bad as the ones he keeps locked away behind the iron door. He doesn't come in here very often—the cold gets into his bones almost worse than the damp Florida air—and he doesn't allow his assistants anywhere near the more dangerous areas of the Library. These places are for him and Ana alone, and even he still doesn't dare to venture into some areas. As such, the books are incredibly dusty, and he hums a little tune to himself as he opens a small cupboard of cleaning supplies and gets to work scrubbing off the grime of years.

He frequently glances over at Hanzo, just to make sure he's doing okay. So far so good—his shoulders look tense as he reads and makes notes, but no signs of stress yet. Jesse really hopes nothing happens to force him to lock Hanzo away for good. Aside from losing this entire room of books to a deadly entity, he'd be pretty upset at having to lock up a guy who he's developed a fairly big crush on in a short period of time.

It's ridiculous, really. Jesse gazes at Hanzo, admiring the tight t-shirt straining over his arms. His hair looks spiky yet soft, almost inviting Jesse to pull the tie out and run his fingers through it. He shakes his head and gets back to his cleaning. Hanzo might not have shut down his vague attempts at flirting, but that means nothing. Maybe he didn't even realise Jesse was flirting with him. He's clearly got a lot on his mind, considering what he's researching.

He glances back just in time to see Hanzo's back stiffen. "Jesse," he says through clenched teeth, and Jesse's at his side in an instant.

"Everythin' okay?"

"It's—it's trying to—I can't—"

"Okay, darlin', look at me." He takes Hanzo's hands from where they have a death grip on the edge of the desk and lets him grasp his prosthetic hand. Even through the metal sensors he can feel how tightly Hanzo is holding on, and he uses his right hand to turn Hanzo's face so he can look him dead in the eye.

Dark brown eyes swimming with pale blue lights stare back at him, tears gathering in the corners and starting to spill down Hanzo's cheeks. His mouth is open and his breathing shallow as he gasps for air, and Jesse stares deep into his eyes and murmurs a spell. Warmth and resilience seep into Hanzo's bones, and Jesse's vision turns red at the edges. He watches as a hint of the same red creeps into Hanzo's eyes, drying the tears. Heat flows through his body, through his hand, but long minutes go by with no more visible change. Jesse frowns, hoping he's gotten to him in time. If he hasn't—

" _No_!" Hanzo's voice is harsh and echoes strangely around the room.

"You will _leave_ ," Jesse orders, clenching his teeth and forcing more power into his hand. It pours into Hanzo's face, turning the pale skin around his hand pink, but the sickly blue light flashes brightly in his eyes.

" _He is mine_!"

"No! He ain't!"

Hanzo groans, loud and deep, and a different kind of blue light rises from his left arm as his spirit dragons, coiling around him desperately, lend their strength to their master. Jesse grits his teeth and pushes harder, feeling the entity that's trying to take over Hanzo resist him. One final push, and Hanzo gasps, his eyes turning red all over to match Jesse's, and there's a distant wail as a pale corpse-light flows back into the book.

The magic fades from Hanzo's eyes, and he slumps forward, his head pressing against Jesse's chest. He loosens his grip on Jesse's left hand, his hands coming up to grasp his shoulders instead as he breathes deeply and shakes. The dragons murmur comforting sounds, caressing his neck and shoulders.

"You're okay," Jesse murmurs. "It's okay. It didn't get you." He rubs Hanzo's back soothingly.

Several minutes pass in this fashion, and Jesse simply lets Hanzo hold onto him until he's ready to let go. His breathing evens out and the shaking stops, and eventually Hanzo pulls back, his hands over his face.

"How're you feeling?" Jesse asks, concerned. He gently pulls Hanzo's hands away from his face and looks directly into his eyes. To his relief there's not a hint of the eerie blue lights from earlier, only deep brown irises.

"C-cold," Hanzo says, shivering. He's not dressed for this room to start with, and Jesse curses himself for not telling him to bring a coat along. He cups Hanzo's face with his hands and lets more warmth flow through him, and Hanzo sighs in contentment.

"Wanna head back? I hope you got everything you needed."

Hanzo nods firmly. "Thankfully, I did. It was right at the end when I found what I wanted that the entity discovered a crack in my mind." He doesn't elaborate, and Jesse nods and helps him gather his things together. The book is safely locked away once again, and they head back into the Library proper.

Jesse's relieved that their trip back through the dark corridors is less fraught than their earlier trek. Regardless, Hanzo keeps a deathgrip on his hand the whole way, and once they get back to the elevator, he breathes a sigh of relief to be back in a less ominous place. It's almost surprising to get back into the atrium to find the midday sun streaming through the windows, bathing the entire room in a warm yellow glow. Hanzo slumps down in the chair on the other side of Jesse's desk.

"That was not the most enjoyable thing that has ever happened to me," he mutters, rubbing his face. 

"Just glad yer okay," Jesse replies. "I'm gonna make a coffee, you want one too?"

"Please," Hanzo says softly, and he shivers. "I feel like I will never be warm again."

"It'll fade," Jesse says reassuringly. "You stay there, I'll be right back."

 

As he waits by the coffee machine in his kitchen, Jesse sighs, trying to let out some of the tension wracking his body. That had been pretty damn terrifying, and he'd come close to losing Hanzo. If it hadn't been for his spell, and for Hanzo's dragons, he could have—

Jesse groans and stops that train of thought. He's fine, Hanzo's fine. He pours out two cups of coffee, sloshing a bit of whiskey into each of them, and carries them back downstairs. Hanzo takes his mug eagerly, wrapping both hands around it and inhaling the steam.

"Whiskey?" he asks, an eyebrow raised. His dragons curl around his hands, sniffing at the contents of the mug and making tiny sounds of pleasure.

Jesse grins. "It's good for what ails ya," he replies, and Hanzo chuckles softly.

They sip their coffee in silence for a few minutes before Hanzo abruptly puts his mug down on the desk. "I am grateful for your aid," he says quietly, his voice low and deep. "I do not think I could have survived that ordeal without you."

"You were doin' pretty good," Jesse reassures him. "And your dragons—they sure helped."

"They did," Hanzo concedes, "but even with their help, I was not strong enough to withstand the spirit contained within that book." He looks Jesse in the eye. "I owe you my life."

Jesse squirms uncomfortably. "Okay, lemme stop you there. You don't owe me anything, alright?"

"But—"

"It's in my contract," Jesse interrupts. "You can read it if you like. I'm to provide aid to anyone in the Library who needs it, to the best of my ability, with no expectation of any favors owed me."

Hanzo frowns. "I see," he says. "I suppose that makes sense, otherwise a lot of patrons would end up owing you a life debt."

"Precisely." Jesse raises his mug in a toast, then slurps his coffee down in one long gulp. Hanzo grins at him and returns the toast, but only sips his drink.

"If you don't mind, I think I will take this over to a quiet place and look at the information I have retrieved," he says.

"Yeah, sure," Jesse replies. "You know where to find me if you need anything."

Hanzo gives him a nod and heads upstairs to the reading rooms, leaving Jesse alone with his thoughts. He glances to his left and sees the large pile of work he had left here only an hour ago, and sighs. Being a librarian in a supernatural library can't all be exciting adventures in possession, and there's a lot of cataloguing to do this afternoon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3: Jesse finds out why Hanzo is visiting the Library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for the lovely feedback! It makes me so happy. :)

Hanzo doesn't think he'll ever get over how incredible the Library is. He’s heard rumours, of course—it's hard to keep an institution of this magnitude a secret—but the stories completely failed to live up to the reality. When he first walked in he'd been awestruck by the immensity of it, and that was just the atrium. There is no doubt in his mind that he will eventually find success here, but he's on a timeline, and time is running out. So far, every lead he has followed, every promising passage in a book that he has found, has led to failure. Genji is still just as trapped as he was a month ago, and the creature inhabiting his form simply laughs off his efforts to expel it. Even the hellish book hidden in the middle of a mountainside hadn't helped, and all the trauma surrounding that particular incident had been for naught.

Hanzo shivers briefly at the memory of the entity attempting to breach his mind. He's been dealing with dark and dangerous beings for most of his adult life, but never before has he experienced anything as brutal and powerful as the spirit contained within that book. It found the cracks in his mental shields so easily, slipping inside like a chill breeze before Hanzo could even notice.

If it hadn't been for Jesse—Hanzo smiles slightly, remembering the strength and solidity of Jesse's chest as he rested his head against him, and the warmth of his hand stroking Hanzo's back. Right on cue, Kaminari and Inazuma pop out and start twitching excitedly. His dragons know him too well—every time he's thought about Jesse in a less-than-professional way, there they are to express their own interest in the handsome librarian.

He buries his face in his hands and sighs, putting those thoughts out of his mind. He's spent almost an entire week here in Florida, every day showing up when the Library opens and not leaving until Jesse finds him and tells him it's time to go. He's lost count of how much mediocre coffee and tea he's drunk—he tried the hideous concoction known as _sweet tea_ once, never again—and how many greasy American convenience store meals he's eaten in his dingy motel room down the road. He's exhausted from being constantly on edge, keeping an eye out for any sign of pursuit from his family and hoping that this time he has escaped their reach. It seems almost too good to be true, and every time he sees a sleek black car he's immediately on high alert. It's wearing him down. All he wants is to have his brother back so they can disappear, and forever escape the constant threat of retribution looming over their heads.

The image of Genji appears in his mind's eye, his face twisted and cruel. He laughs as Hanzo tries a new ritual, and taunts him when Hanzo fails.

"I don't know what to do," he murmurs under his breath. "I am running out of options." 

He breathes deeply, trying to get his emotions back under control, and gets up from his chair to pace, his arms crossed over his chest as he maps out the edges of the room with his boots. Frustration and anger well up inside him until he wants to scream. He has to fix this, he _must_ fix this! His brother's life depends on him, and just like always, Hanzo has failed to protect the one person who matters most to him. He picks up his empty coffee mug and hurls it across the room with a yell. It crashes and shatters against the bricks, the dregs of his coffee pooling on the floor. Kaminari and Inazuma rear up out of his arm but this time they expand, Kanimari hissing loudly and casting his gaze around for whatever is threatening his master while Inazuma curls protectively around his chest. They're already on edge after a full week spent in one place, and Hanzo immediately regrets his outburst.

Something hits him solidly in the back of the head. He yelps and whirls around, but there's no one there—just a large hardcover book on the floor at his feet. Hanzo rubs his head, wincing at the lump he's going to have, and glances around. There's a gap on the shelf across the room from him, and he carefully picks the book up to put it back where it belongs.

"Sorry," he murmurs, patting the shelf and feeling a bit foolish. 

The room seems to sigh around him. It's a nice room, small and private and far enough into the bowels of the Library that no one except Jesse has ever disturbed him here. The first time he entered, it felt _safe_. Dark and a bit dingy, yes, but he finds himself able to relax and set his mind to his task easier in here. But now the room seems to shift, like a small quake that Hanzo feels in his gut. He glances up and the shelves shiver slightly, just enough to make the books sway. A grinding noise comes from the far corner and a door appears in the solid brick.

"Is someone there?" he calls out, but the only response is the door clicking open. Jesse had warned him about strange things happening, although to be fair, his warning about doors had only pertained to doors which might vanish after a room had been entered. 

He had said nothing about doors _appearing_.

Ignoring the sensible voice in the back of his head which told him _well actually he did mention not to take any stairwells or passageways that appear_ , Hanzo gathers up his papers and laptop and shoves them into his bag. He makes sure his phone has plenty of battery left and, still ignoring the voice telling him how stupid he's being, pushes the door open and walks through.

He was not expecting… well, _this._ Although he really didn't know what he was expecting—a fiery pit? A dragon? Another dark corridor lined with soul-sucking paintings and shadowy creatures that dragged you into their lairs? 

Hanzo blinks at the bright sunlight. He appears to be outside, standing in a field of grass under a clear blue sky. There are mountains not far away, snow-capped peaks stretching high into the sky, and ahead of him is a small lake surrounded by pink sand and groves of dark green trees. The grass is dotted with wildflowers of all colours and fat bumble bees hover around them, collecting pollen. He feels like he's stepped into an idealistic painting. Hanzo frowns. Why did the Library send him here?

"Well, you're a surprise," a clear voice says from behind him. He whirls around and sees Angela, the woman who had been talking to Jesse when he first arrived at the Library. Since then, he's seen her around in passing and gotten to know her name, but nothing more. Here the wings that adorn her back in such splendid glory are huge, stretching far above her head and shimmering with all the colours of the rainbow. He's not sure if it's just the light or if it's real, but a gold circlet hovers in the air above her head.

"Where am I?" Hanzo asks. It's pleasantly warm here—no humidity, no dank chill. He takes a deep breath and smells the sweetness of the grass and the crisp summer air.

Angela laughs softly. "This is my reading room," she says, and smiles. "I'm not sure how you got here, but I assume the Library sent you for a reason. Why don't you come and sit down by the lake with me?"

Hanzo nods and follows her down to the shores of the lake where there's a study area set up under some trees, along with a small bookshelf and a comfy chair. 

"How—" Hanzo starts, but he can't finish. He just gestures around him at _everything_ , and Angela laughs again.

"Once you have been here long enough, the Library shapes itself around you. As I suspect it has started doing for you." She indicates that Hanzo should take the comfortable chair, and perches on the edge of the desk.

"A door appeared," Hanzo replies. "I was..." — _about to give up_ — "...having some issues with my study, and decided that I had nothing to lose if I followed where the Library led me."

Angela nods. "Would you like a cup of tea?" she asks.

"Thank you," Hanzo replies, and between one blink and the next, a steaming mug has appeared on the bookshelf next to him. He picks it up and sniffs it, surprised to find that it's a spicy oolong blend—his favourite. "How did you—?"

"I don't wear these wings for fashion," Angela says. "Now, how would you feel about some advice?"

Hanzo sighs and sips his tea. "A week ago I would have said thank you, but I do not need any help." He rubs his face, anxiety burning hot in his throat and twisting his stomach. He feels _useless_. "But now, I would not turn down any advice given."

"Good." Angela stares him straight in the eye. "I cannot help you. I deal with celestial matters, and the situation you are dealing with is not of my realm."

"Oh."

"But the Library will always provide help to those who need it."

"Isn't that from Harry Potter?"

Angela laughs. "Technically, it's from Ana, the woman who created this place. But it is no less true. You have been sent to me and, while I cannot help you directly, I can advise you to seek out one who can."

"Who?"

"Jesse, of course. He is more than simply a custodian of this institution."

Hanzo sits back and takes a large gulp of tea. He's considered it, that's for sure. Jesse's already shown his competence, and he seems to know every corner of the Library. Hanzo also enjoys his company, and really would not be averse to spending more time getting to know him. But—

"I do not wish to burden him," he replies. "Providing me with assistance within the confines of the Library is one thing, but asking him for aid in taking on a kitsune is another."

Angela's eyes fill with sadness. "So that is why you are here," she murmurs. "Who has the kitsune taken?"

Hanzo's hands tighten around his mug. "My brother. And it is my fault."

 

Jesse is nowhere to be seen. 

Hanzo decides to wait for him, but his resolve has already begun to fade. There's a call bell on the counter, and Hanzo eyes it reluctantly. _It's there for a reason_ , he tells himself, and dings it once.

Behind the desk an old intercom that Hanzo hadn't even noticed creaks into life. Jesse's voice emerges from it, crackly but still mostly audible. _Hey there! I'll be back in just a moment, don't you worry. Hang about._

"Very well," Hanzo murmurs, and feels a bit silly when he realises that of course Jesse can’t hear his reply. He sits down beside Jesse's desk and tries not to fidget as he waits. Perhaps he is overreacting. Angela seemed certain, but can Hanzo really trust this man with such an important issue?

 _Of course you can. He's done nothing to earn your distrust, and plenty to earn your trust_. Hanzo sighs. It's not like he has a choice—the answer could be anywhere in the Library, and he needs to ask someone who knows the books. Time is running out.

"Hey, Hanzo!" Jesse calls as he emerges from the stairwell. "Sorry, I was just helpin' Jack out."

"The vampire?" Hanzo's mouth quirks into a smile. He'd been a little taken aback to find out that not only does the Library house some form of smoke demon, but an ancient vampire lives in its cellar. 

Jesse rubs his neck. "Yeah, he's pretty frail, and Gabe can't actually do anything to help, because, y'know." He waves a hand. "Incorporeal and all." He sits down at his desk and twirls his chair around to face Hanzo. "What's up?"

Hanzo sighs. "I need your help with a particularly difficult issue I am facing."

"Yeah, darlin', I'll do what I can. You need another dangerous book?"

"You have probably figured out what I am researching," Hanzo says tentatively, and glances up at Jesse.

Jesse frowns. "I've picked up a few hints," he admits. "But I'd feel better if you told me yourself."

Hanzo rubs a hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose where his glasses are starting to cause him pain. "A kitsune—a fox spirit—has possessed my younger brother. I am trying to help him, trying to remove her spirit from his body, but I have found nothing except frustration. It is my fault he was taken, and I must remedy this."

"A fox spirit?" Jesse frowns and sits back, his hands linked over his stomach. "Now that's something I've never encountered. Coyote spirits, maybe, but not foxes. They're tricksters as well, yeah?"

Hanzo nods. "They can be mischievous, a little annoying, but on rare occasions they will become intensely possessive. This is what happened to Genji—one decided that it wanted him, no matter what stood in its way. I was able to smuggle him out of Japan after our family tried to kill him for what happened. It is only through sheer luck that I know several binding spells that allowed me to safely transport the creature to America."

"And how, exactly, is this your fault?" Jesse asks.

"I was attempting to remove my brother from a dangerous situation, and she responded by taking possession of him. If I had known what she was…" He trails off and sighs.

"Hey, not your fault," Jesse reassures him. "How could you have seen this coming?"

"I am a demon hunter," Hanzo growls, "and it is my _job_ to not be taken unawares by such things."

"Can't change the past," Jesse says. "Anyway, if I'm gonna help you, I'll need to know a bit more. What have you tried so far?"

"Every exorcism ritual I could get my hands on," Hanzo says, sitting back in his chair. "I have tried rituals from every religion you could ever think of, as well as some from the most obscure beliefs." His mouth twists. "Each one guaranteed to work on even the most stubborn of spirits, and each one more useless than the last. That book you keep locked away claims to contain the strongest exorcism ritual ever created, and she just taunted me when I tried it."

Jesse taps his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe we're going about this the wrong way," he says. "Now, you're sure she's a kitsune?"

Hanzo nods. "Her tails pop out when she's angry. It's quite a sight."

"Tails?"

"Kitsune have multiple tails."

Jesse blinks in surprise. "Well now, that's a thing I'd like to see sometime."

Hanzo sighs. "That is where I am currently at in my research. If you can think of any other options besides exorcism, then I would be grateful."

"I can't guarantee anything, but I'm more than happy to lend a hand and see what we can come up with."

"Have you dealt with such things before?"

"Not kitsune," Jesse replies, "but this ain't gonna be the first time I had to deal with a stubborn-ass spirit that didn't know when to let go." 

 

Although Hanzo still doesn't feel like he's getting much further, the next few days are more enjoyable than the previous week, solely due to the company. The gnawing fear that the clan will track him down any day hasn't abated, but having Jesse on his side allows him to relax a little. The Library feels safer than any place he’s been since he fled Hanamura, and Hanzo hates having to leave it every evening.

Jesse takes him on a trek to the furthest stacks, ancient shelves down in the basements that look like they would fall over if the slightest breath touched them. It took them several hours to get to the locked room, and Hanzo is glad that Jesse insisted they bring sandwiches and a thermos full of coffee with them. 

The shelves are lined not with books, but what look like safety deposit boxes from a bank vault. Jesse gets Hanzo to hold the base of a huge, rickety ladder as he scrambles up it to find a large metal box at the very top of the shelves. Hanzo sneezes when Jesse blows the dust off its lid.

"Sorry," Jesse says, not sounding particularly sorry. 

Hanzo glares at him, but can't keep the look up for too long at the sight of Jesse trying not to laugh. 

They lug the heavy box over to a nearby table, which is empty except for a single, long stemmed red rose, pristine among the dust.

"What on earth—" Hanzo says quietly, picking it up. He turns to show Jesse. "What is this doing here?" He raises it to his nose and inhales. The sweet, rich scent of the rose fills his lungs, and he can't help but smile. His dragons peek out of his collar to sniff it as well, little forked tongues poking out as they wriggle happily.

Jesse stares at him for a moment, his eyes wide. "Uh, that's weird," he says, glancing away. "But y'know, this Library—it's a pretty weird place."

"Indeed," Hanzo murmurs, and puts the rose down to take a look at the box Jesse has brought down. It's simply made, undecorated save for a complicated lock with no visible keyhole. Jesse presses his hand against it and, just like the locked door in the safe room, the box clicks open at his touch. He reverently reaches inside to pull out an ancient leather-bound book. 

"What is this?" Hanzo asks as they pull up chairs and sit down. The book is quite plain aside from some simple decorations around the edges of the cover, and he wonders what could warrant it being locked away so carefully.

Jesse grins at him. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he replies. He starts to open it up and glances back at Hanzo to see him watching him expectantly.

"You _have_ to tell me now," Hanzo says.

Jesse raises an eyebrow. "It's from Atlantis."

Hanzo scoffs. "Okay, fine, don't tell me."

"No, really!" Jesse shifts in his chair to face Hanzo. "I had to go deep sea diving for this baby. It was protected by some pretty wicked spells, and the stuff I found there? _Incredible_."

"I still think you are making a joke, but very well. Where was this? Because finding Atlantis would be very big news."

Jesse rolls his eyes. "I'm not gonna tell you. Can you imagine what would happen if people got their hands on this kinda information? It'd be _destroyed_." He shivers, gazing off into the distance. "Hanzo, you got no idea. It's amazing down there. All the fairy tales in the world don't do it justice." 

"Do people still live there?"

"Nah, they all left thousands of years ago when the island sank into the rift which opened up under it. But they had time to cast some pretty amazing protective spells over it. Did you know that anyone with magical ability is descended in some way from the original Atlanteans?"

"You're—you're serious."

"Damn right!" Jesse says. "You can't tell anyone any of this, alright?"

"No one would believe me. I'm still not sure _I_ believe you."

"I'm serious, Hanzo. Even rumours could send all the wrong types out there searching."

Hanzo gives him a long, silent look. He's only known Jesse for a week or so, and Jesse is putting a lot of faith in Hanzo by trusting him with this information. A tendril of warmth fills his chest at the thought, and he smiles crookedly at Jesse. "Very well. I promise. Now, what is in this book that could help?"

Jesse grins at him and cracks it open. "The Atlanteans dealt a lot with spirit-swapping—it was part of their spiritual beliefs. And when you do a lot of that, you open yourself up to all sorts of nasty things trying to get into you as well, so they had a bunch of damn good exorcism rituals to get rid of unwelcome guests."

"Another ritual?" Hanzo frowns. "I've tried so many. How is this any different?" He peers over Jesse's shoulder at the unfamiliar words. He can't even read the text—it looks like no language he's ever seen in his life.

Jesse shrugs. "Worth a try. I'll write out a transliteration for you." He pulls his notebook and pen over, and Hanzo opens his laptop to start making notes.

 

It doesn't work, and Jesse sighs as Hanzo reports back the next day. 

"Where to now?" Hanzo asks, slumped in the chair in front of Jesse's desk. He looks exhausted, and Jesse wonders what the kitsune had done in response to the failed ritual. 

Jesse frowns slightly. "I've got an errand I need to run today," he says, and when Hanzo raises a curious eyebrow, he continues quickly. "I was wonderin' if you wanted to tag along. A bit of an outing, y'know. You've been cooped up here for over a week now, and it looks like you could do with a change of pace."

"But—"

"Genji's goin' nowhere," Jesse reassures him. "I assume you keep him bound to wherever it is you two are holed up when you're over here doin' yer research?" 

"I—yes, I do."

"And one day off research ain't gonna kill you," Jesse continues. "In fact, it'll probably be good for ya. This Library may be a fine place, but even I like to get out into the fresh air occasionally."

Hanzo's nose wrinkles. "Fresh? This place is worse than Tokyo in summer."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Still. You comin'?" Jesse stands up and grabs his hat and keys, and after a few seconds of hesitation, Hanzo nods and stands up as well. Jesse resists the urge to cast his eyes down Hanzo's form—again—and winces internally as he remembers that damned rose showing up. The Library is way too sensitive to Jesse's moods, and he's going to have to be careful with his thoughts if he wants to avoid further embarrassment.

But damn, the jeans Hanzo is wearing today are _snug_. It's virtually impossible for Jesse not to at least glance at the man's ass as he heads towards the front door with Jesse close behind him. He could swear he hears a faint chuckle from far away as he pulls the door closed behind them.

It's a typical Florida day outside: over a hundred degrees and the air dripping with humidity. Jesse wipes his brow as sweat immediately springs up on his skin, and is walking towards his truck parked out front of the decrepit Blockbuster when he notices Hanzo has stopped moving.

"You okay?" he asks.

"I—yes," Hanzo replies, his gaze fixed to the cars parked down the road. There are a few dismal storefronts along this stretch and, as usual, a few dented up cars are parked outside them. There's one that stands out—a black, expensive-looking vehicle, its shiny paint gleaming in the bright sunlight.

"You know that car?" Jesse asks, a little confused. Hanzo stares at it for a moment, his entire body tense and ready for action, before shaking his head.

"I thought—" he begins, then shakes his head again. "No. My apologies. Shall we go?" He climbs into the passenger side, and Jesse, glancing suspiciously at the line of cars a few hundred yards away, joins him in the truck.

 

This particular errand is to pick up some books from a dealer Jesse found online. He's happy to have the company—the dealer is only an hour away, but picking up books is usually something he does alone. He starts up the truck and Hanzo visibly recoils as country music blasts from the speakers. "Sorry!" he yelps as he quickly grabs for the dial and turns it down.

Hanzo uncovers his ears, laughing. "You are driving," he points out, "which I believe means you get to choose the music."

"Damn straight!" Jesse says with a grin, and turns the music up again. Hanzo groans theatrically, but it doesn't take long for Jesse's only slightly off-key singing to make him relax after whatever had given him a scare earlier. Within two songs he's humming along with Jesse.

"Didn't take you for a Dolly Parton fan," Jesse says between songs.

"Tell no one," Hanzo says sternly, but he's having trouble keeping from smiling. "So, where are we going?"

"I got a contact who told me about this guy selling occult texts," Jesse explains as they drive down the highway. "As you can probably understand, I don't just order books for the library from Amazon."

"Of course."

"So I got this network of dodgy second hand dealers. And some of them are pretty damn dodgy, let me tell you."

"Understandable," Hanzo allows. "Your Library does have some very obscure texts."

"That's puttin' it mildly, darlin'," Jesse replies. "Anyway, this guy—Jeff, I think his name is—sent me a list of what he's sellin' and let me tell you, I might need to find another safe room for some of these babies."

Hanzo blinks and stares at him. "We are picking up _dangerous books_ in your _truck_?"

"Well, yeah," Jesse says. "How else'm I supposed to get 'em to the Library? These dealers don't exactly deliver."

"Isn't it, well, _dangerous_?"

"Nah, I got my book bag." Jesse indicates to his trusty bottomless book bag which he'd given Hanzo to hold onto during the trip. "It's surprisingly big."

Hanzo frowns and opens up the bag, glancing inside. His frown deepens, and he puts a hand inside, eyes widening as his arm vanishes up to the shoulder. "You have a Bag of Holding!"

"Well—yeah, I s'pose I do," Jesse says with a grin. He can't believe he'd never thought of it that way.

"You are full of surprises," Hanzo says, his voice rich with amusement, and Jesse glances over at him and smiles widely.

 

The rest of the trip is quite enjoyable, filled with bad country music and easy conversation. Hanzo manages to wheedle a fair bit of Jesse's life story out of him, from his beginnings as a street kid in Santa Fe, to being found by Ana not long after he joined a carnival as a dog's body. He'd tried to mug her as she was leaving the carnival one night, and when she saw him, her eyes had widened to see a kid of not much more than fourteen pointing a gun at her.

"What happened?" Hanzo asks.

Jesse smiles. "Waved a hand at me and picked me right up off the ground," he reminisces. "O' course, that's when my magic decided to manifest, and she swears I lit half of that alleyway on fire before she was able to summon a bit of rain."

"And she trained you?"

"Wouldn't be where I am today without her," Jesse says. He glances at Hanzo. "It's mostly fire magic, you mighta noticed. I mean, I can do all elements, but fire's the easy one. Water's a bitch, pardon my language."

Hanzo laughs quietly. "I did notice," he replies.

"And if you ever get cold hands, let me know," Jesse says. He tries desperately to be casual as he reaches across the center console and places his hand over Hanzo's, but Hanzo doesn't even flinch. He leans into the touch, and lets out a soft gasp when Jesse allows a thin tendril of warm magic to seep through his hand into Hanzo's. 

This isn't the first time Jesse's touched Hanzo—he's found himself thinking back to the incident in the safe room fairly frequently over the past week, particularly Hanzo's warm breath against his chest—but it's the first time he's touched him with any kind of intent. Hanzo's hand is already warm, the skin callused around the fingers, and Jesse squeezes gently. Hanzo's hands are big, the fingers long and thick, the hands of a fighter.

Hanzo looks over at him, his mouth still open in surprise, and Jesse knows he's seeing a dull red fire light up his eyes. Hanzo doesn't pull away, instead pressing his hand up into Jesse's grasp.

"Amazing," Hanzo murmurs. As he speaks, his dragons slowly rise out of his arm and make their way down to Jesse's hand. 

Jesse swears he can almost feel the weight of their bodies as they wrap themselves around his and Hanzo's joined hands, and he feels more than hears Hanzo take a deep breath. Their eyes lock for a few long moments, and Jesse swallows.

"Yeah, it's got its uses," Jesse replies, trying to still his rapidly beating heart. He can feel Hanzo's own heartbeat pulsing through the magic joining them, and he feels a thrill deep inside. He'd been worried Hanzo would pull away from him, but he seems to enjoy Jesse touching him just as much as Jesse does. Jesse files that information away for later and gently removes his hand from the dragons' grasp to place it back on the steering wheel as he turns a corner. 

"And what about you?" he asks, changing the subject. "I ain't never seen spirit dragons like yours before." From what he'd been able to find out in the small amount of research he had done after first witnessing the dragons, they were likely a family heirloom of sorts.

"I was wondering when you were going to ask about them," Hanzo says, sounding amused.

"Didn't wanna be nosy," Jesse says. "But they're pretty cute. And dangerous. They got names?"

Hanzo leans back in his seat and stares out the window. Jesse wonders if he's crossed some kind of line, and he's about to apologise when Hanzo speaks up. 

"They are part of my family history," he says. "I will not bore you with all the details, but the ability to summon dragons has manifested within those of us who are direct descendants of a distant ancestor, who is rumoured to have been part dragon. It follows the matrilineal line, only passing to children of the eldest daughter." He sighs. "This gift will die with my brother and I. We have no sisters who can pass it on."

"That's a damn shame," Jesse murmurs.

"My mother was desperate for a daughter. But she died not long after Genji was born. I don't believe the clan ever forgave her for that, as she had been specifically chosen as my father’s wife in order to bring the dragons to the Shimada clan." His mouth twists unpleasantly. "She was my mother, and her name is now dust amongst my relatives, for the crime of failing to give birth to a daughter."

"That's awful!" Jesse blurts out. "They _blamed_ her for that shit? This ain't the fifteen hundreds!"

Hanzo shrugs. "My family were fairly _traditional_." He spits out the word as if it tastes foul. "The dragons first manifested when I turned sixteen." He lifts his left arm and pushes the sleeve up, turning his arm this way and that to look at the tattoo. "This appeared on my birthday, and with it, the ability to summon the spirits."

"But they hang out with you even when you ain't summoning them," Jesse points out.

"They come and go as they please," Hanzo says. "They are sentient and closely attuned to my mind. And yes, they have names. I called them Kaminari and Inazuma." As he speaks their names, the little whiskered faces perk up and nuzzle his hand. "Thunder and lightning. When they are like this—" He indicates to their small forms coiled around his arm. "—they are harmless and friendly. They only become large and dangerous when I summon them so."

"They look an awful lot like lightning magic," Jesse comments. 

Hanzo shrugs. "They may do, but I am afraid my own magical talents are weak. I cannot actually summon lightning."

"Have you tried?"

"What do you mean?" Hanzo looks at him with a frown.

"We-ell," Jesse says slowly, "I just noticed, that first time I saw you summon them, you looked an awful lot like Ana does when she's castin' a lightning spell. Your eyes lit up, there were actual goddamn sparks in the air, and it was just like being in the middle of a thunderstorm."

Hanzo blinks, seemingly at a loss for words. "I had some basic magical training," he admits, "but my teachers told me that I had little to no ability other than summoning my dragons, so I let it lie. The binding spells I spoke of the other day are about the extent of my talents."

"Really?" Jesse says, sounding surprised. "In your line of work, I'm surprised they didn't leave you with every edge possible. It sounds like you live a dangerous life."

Hanzo barks out a laugh. "That does not even begin to cover it," he says. Jesse looks at him curiously, and a good part of the rest of the trip is spent with Hanzo telling Jesse about some of the more dangerous demon hunting jobs he's been on. Jesse particularly enjoys the story about the time Hanzo had to rid a small town of a group of murderous mannequins brought to life by a wizard. 

"Have you ever tried to kill a mannequin?" Hanzo asks, snorting with laughter as he tells the tale.

"Never had to," Jesse replies, trying not to drive them off the road between fits of laughter.

"They—they just crawl around on the floor if you cut off their legs! I ended up having to dismember them down to the smallest finger joint and then dump the remains in the ocean. One of them was wearing a _frilly nightgown_!"

Jesse pictures Hanzo muttering curses to himself as he picks up pieces of mannequin—and frilly nightgown—and stashing them in a sack. It's quite an amusing image, and he coughs out another laugh. "And the wizard?"

Hanzo sighs loudly. "A kid who found a spell book in a second hand shop. He wanted to punish the people who had been bullying him, and once he realised what he'd done, he was very biddable."

"Damn," Jesse mutters. "It woulda been easier if it'd been some madman in a cave."

Hanzo nods in agreement. "Unfortunately, with demon hunting, there is often more going on than you can see on the surface. Too many people who have gone a little too far and ended up in serious trouble."

"Ain't that the way of it," Jesse says, and they both fall into silent contemplation.

 

Eventually they turn off the highway and onto a dirt road. It seems to be leading them straight towards a swamp, but at the last minute Jesse swerves off to the left and through a narrow stand of trees. There's a small hut perched at the edge of the swamp, and Hanzo casts his gaze around, suddenly wary.

"This is it?" he asks. "This is your rare book dealer?"

Jesse frowns as he gets out of the truck, slipping his hat on to block the heavy heat of the Florida sun. "Apparently," he says.

"I do not trust this place," Hanzo says softly. "It feels _wrong_." He wishes he had brought his storm bow, but it's currently locked up safely back in his motel room. At least he has his daggers, and he hopes he won't have to use them.

"With you there, sweetheart," Jesse murmurs, and reaches back into the truck to get a revolver and a set of spurs out of the glove box. Hanzo looks at him quizzically as Jesse attaches the spurs. Jesse just grins and holsters his gun. A serape pulled from the back seat is wrapped around his upper body to hide the presence of the gun under his arm, and he grabs the book bag from Hanzo. "C'mon, let's see what Jeff has in store for us." 

Hanzo nods and, after checking his daggers are concealed beneath his shirt, follows him.

Jeff, it turns out, is a weedy guy in his late forties with thinning black hair and thick glasses. His eyes dart back and forth between them nervously after he opens the door, but Jesse is all warm smiles and friendly words. Hanzo glares at Jeff, still suspicious.

"So!" Jesse says loudly, once they're inside Jeff's small house. "I hear ya got some interestin' texts yer lookin' t' sell." 

Hanzo notices that his accent has broadened, and that along with the excessive cowboy gear the man's wearing now makes him wonder if Jesse is exaggerating his Southern traits to manipulate Jeff. Hanzo tightens his jaw to prevent a smile from slipping out. 

It seems to work on Jeff—the man's nervous twitching relaxes and his gaze takes on a hint of avarice. "Yes, yes, I have many interesting books!" He bustles over to the table, which is piled high with musty old texts, and spreads his arms. "Here are all the ones on the list you sent back to me! Take a look, take a look." 

"Okay, lessee," Jesse muses as he steps towards the table, pulling a crumpled list out of his pocket. "Hey Hanzo, c'mere and gimme a hand." As Hanzo steps up, Jesse mutters under his breath, "He's up to something. I'm gonna need you to try to create a distraction."

Hanzo nods slightly and pretends to be looking over a book with Jesse. Jeff feels _wrong_ —he's likely not human, and Hanzo senses something familiar about him. Something that isn't good. Too quiet to be heard, he murmurs a soft command to his dragons, who slide down his arm and vanish into thin air. He can feel their presence as they crawl around behind him, but to anyone else, they are completely undetectable.

"This one looks good," he says to Jesse, pointing at a random title and flicking it open.

"Yeah, sure does," Jesse replies. "Hey, can you read off this list and I'll check each one?"

"No need for that," Jeff scoffs. "They're all there."

Jesse laughs. "Hey, I trust you," he says jovially, "but my accountant'll be on my back if I don't check everything! Ya know how those money types get."

Hanzo glances at Jeff and sees his eyes narrow, his gaze darting around the room as he wrings his hands nervously. He pretends to ignore it and looks back at the books before silently sending a command to the dragons who by now are on the far side of the room.

There's a loud _crash_ from behind them, and Hanzo and Jeff both whirl around to see a bookshelf has been pushed out from the wall and landed on the floor, its contents strewn all over the threadbare rugs and scuffed floorboards. 

"What the hell was that?" Hanzo exclaims. In a flash his dragons are back on his arms and he raises them defensively as Kaminari and Inazuma rear up and hiss.

"I don't know, I don't know!" Jeff mumbles, rushing over to the bookshelf. "Hey, help me pick this up!"

"Of course," Hanzo says, making sure Jeff's eyes are on him and not Jesse, who Hanzo can sense casting a spell behind him. He takes one side of the shelf and heaves, helping Jeff right it. There's a terrible mess on the floor, though—not just books, but picture frames and all sorts of weird looking and possibly occult items. Some of them lie in pieces, and Jeff groans.

"Gotcha!" Jesse says triumphantly from the other side of the room. There's a gust of hot wind and a flash of light, and a book flies out from the middle of one of the piles and straight into his hand. "Nice try, Jeff, but I'm afraid it didn't work."

"What are you talking about?" Jeff replies. He tries to plaster on a look of confusion, but Hanzo can see the panic in his eyes.

Jesse flicks the book open and casts his eye over it. Hanzo notices that his eyes have turned that deep, dark red—a sure sign that he's immersed himself in his magic. The hot wind swirls around the room, and intensifies when Jesse snaps the book shut and points at Jeff with his metal hand.

"You are _never_ getting into the Library," he growls, and barks a word in a language Hanzo doesn't recognise. Jeff is suddenly flung against the wall, the breath rushing out of him in a _whoosh_. Jesse strides over and stands over his crumpled form, his serape lifting in the strong wind. Papers fly around the room and Hanzo, slightly scared of Jesse—and not a little aroused, he has to admit—takes a step backwards.

"That's where you're wrong!" Jeff spits out, and raises a hand. The wind stops abruptly as a large circle on the floor lights up, and Jesse frowns as his magic suddenly sputters out and vanishes. Jeff coughs and laughs, spitting blood as he clambers to his feet and stands up straight. He stretches tall, much taller than Hanzo had thought he was, and suddenly there's a corpse-white, spindly form with burning green eyes and inch-long claws standing where Jeff was a moment ago. Hanzo recognises the form—he's fought these creatures before.

"Oni!" Hanzo hisses, and Jeff looks over at him.

"Good luck, little demon hunter," he rasps, and raises a hand. Kaminari and Inazuma roar into life, their bright blue bodies blocking what looks to be a fireball. It ricochets off the shield they make and through the cage holding Jesse, who yelps and dives out of the way.

"I think not," Hanzo growls, and leaps at Jeff with his daggers flashing into his hands. The steel is inlaid with spells, carved in with salt and iron and imbued with the power of the dragons, and Jeff yelps as Hanzo carves a line into his arm. 

"No!" Jeff roars. He hisses in Hanzo's face and leaps at him, wrapping his spindly arms tightly around Hanzo's torso. Hanzo gasps for breath as the air is squeezed from his lungs. He raises one shaky hand and sinks his dagger into the demon's side. 

Jeff howls, jerking away and almost dropping Hanzo. He stabs him again as Jeff grows in size. Jeff tosses Hanzo across the room like a rag doll, the dagger sliding across the floor.

As he hits the floor, Hanzo unleashes the dragons. Jeff contorts in horror as he's enveloped in their lightning-bright bodies, teeth gnashing as throaty roars fill the small room. There's a screech of pain and a flash of blue light, and a concussive blast pushes Hanzo back as he's getting to his feet. He lands heavily back on the floor, the air driven from his lungs, and looks up in time to see his dragons fade away. 

There's not much left of Jeff but a smear of white on the floor and wall.

The glowing circle surrounding Jesse vanishes and he yelps, falling forward. His arms windmill as he loses his balance and topples over, just managing to catch himself on his hands before he completely flattens Hanzo under him. 

Hanzo realises abruptly that Jesse is pressed against him from chest to toe. This close, he can see the flecks of gold in Jesse's eyes and smell the intoxicating scent of hot desert sand, sharp and almost acrid in his nose. Combined with his natural musk and the light cologne Jesse's wearing, Hanzo feels slightly overwhelmed, and he can't prevent the soft gasp that escapes his lungs.

"Are you okay?" Jesse says quietly, not moving. He's staring at Hanzo, his gaze fixed on Hanzo's eyes, and he reaches up with his right hand to gently touch Hanzo's temple. His fingertips are still warm from his magic use, and Hanzo feels it course all the way down his body to pool in his groin.

It's silent in the room, and Hanzo is all too aware of his breathing. He doesn't reply to Jesse's question, and instead leans into the touch, breathing deeply and quite unable to stop looking at Jesse.

He's about to speak—to say what, he doesn't know—when two little whiskery faces suddenly poke up from inside Jesse's serape. His eyes wide, Hanzo watches as his dragons fully manifest and curl up around Jesse's neck, whuffling softly as they rub against his face.

"Well, ain't that the most adorable thing," Jesse says. With a quiet chuckle, he reaches up to touch Inazuma, who lets out a trilling purr and nuzzles Jesse's finger. Kaminari huffs, clearly feeling left out, and insistently nudges Jesse's hand until he gets a pat as well.

Hanzo stares in horrified silence as his dragons seem determined to give away just how he feels about Jesse. Jesse seems enamoured, petting them both and laughing as they curl around his arm and tickle his face with their whiskers.

"I—I need to get up," Hanzo eventually says. He's lying; he could stay here for hours watching Jesse play with his dragons.

"Oh! Yeah, sorry," Jesse replies, clambering to his feet. "Damn, your pets are cute. I could play with 'em all day."

"They're not _pets_ ," Hanzo mutters, feeling slightly offended as Jesse reaches a hand down to help him up. Eager to hide his flushed face, Hanzo turns toward the wall so he can examine the remains of the demon. His dragons slide back into his arm, and he hisses in Japanese, " _You are embarrassing me_!" 

Within his mind he hears a chuckle, and Hanzo sighs. 

"Are you okay?" Jesse asks again from just behind him as Hanzo crouches down by the white smear on the floor and wall. "That was pretty amazing! But he didn't hurt you, did he?" He seems overly worried, and Hanzo feels the warmth of Jesse’s hand on his shoulder.

"I am fine," he replies, silently thanking Kaminari and Inazuma as he slides his daggers into their hidden sheaths inside his shirt. The dragons murmur in contentment, happy to have helped get rid of another force of evil. He will most definitely have more words with them later about their display of affection. "What _was_ all that?"

Jesse retrieves the book he had been holding just before it all went to shit. "If I'm not mistaken, Jeff's dead and has been for a while." He glares at the remains of the demon. "This piece of shit wanted into the Library, and had snuck a portal spell into the binding of one of the books."

Hanzo's eyes widen. "What would have happened if he'd managed to get in?"

"Chaos," Jesse says bluntly. He crouches down beside Hanzo and runs a finger of his prosthetic hand through the remains before bringing it to his nose and sniffing. "Yeah, this guy coulda brought half the place down before I'd've been able to find and stop him." He stands up and brushes his hand off on his jeans. "Thanks for the help," he says, tossing a grin at Hanzo. "I couldn't've done it without you."

Hanzo hides his smile. "Oh, I think you would have been fine if you had ever been able to find your way out of that cage."

"That thing?" Jesse scoffs, glancing down at his serape and wincing at the charred holes in it from the fireball. "Nah, that thing would've held me for like five more seconds, tops. I was almost through." 

"Sure." Hanzo smirks. 

They go back to the table and, after a quick check, Jesse deems the rest of the books safe and they start piling them into the bag.

"Pity about Jeff," Jesse says. "I'll let one of my buddies down at the sheriff’s know what happened here. Hopefully they can find out what happened to the poor guy."

Hanzo sighs. "He wouldn't have stood a chance," he says. "I've fought this type before. They don't usually leave survivors."

"Good thing I brought you along," Jesse says, and his wide grin makes Hanzo turn his face away to hide his blush. 

He can still remember the feel of Jesse's body pressed against his own, and he clears his throat awkwardly as he turns his attention back to shoving books into the bag.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse finally manages to get the full story from Hanzo, and realises that not everything is as it seems.

It's early afternoon by the time they finally arrive back at the Library. "Thank you for the trip," Hanzo says, "but I believe I might retire to a reading room for a time." He rubs his shoulder where he landed on the floorboards of Jeff's living room.

"Yeah, I getcha," Jesse replies. He runs his hand through his slightly singed hair and holds his serape up to the light. The edges are burned and holes are scattered throughout, and he sighs. "Come find me if you're up for more work."

Hanzo nods and flees, keen to be alone for a while to mull over what happened. The demon was nothing to write home about—he's faced worse—but this _thing_ building between him and Jesse is definitely something he wants to ponder. In detail. 

He knows the way to his favourite reading room almost by rote now, and he's barely paying attention when he pushes the door open.

"How—" he murmurs, gazing at the sakura tree in full blossom growing right up through the middle of the table in the centre of the room. The delicate scent of the flowers is tangible just on the edges of Hanzo's senses, and he approaches the tree in awe. Its branches are heavy with pink flowers, and the table is decorated with fallen petals. The formerly dark and somewhat dingy room seems like it is lit from within by the bright flowers, bathing the entire room in a soft pink glow. It envelops him with warmth, and Hanzo can't keep a broad smile from splitting his face.

He falls into his chair. It is also different, having become inexplicably more comfortable since he’s been gone. Hanzo leans back and feels himself relax for the first time in over a month. It's been awful—hopping from place to place, only a few steps ahead of the clan every time. They haven’t been able to settle in to do any serious work without assassins crawling out of the woodwork to try to take them down.

It's quite some time before he can bring himself to leave the room. He doesn't know what happened—Angela had said the Library might start shaping itself around him—but if this is the Library's way of telling him he is welcome, he is all too happy to accept its offering. It's a lot better than having a book hurled at his head. 

Eventually he gets up and plucks a small branch from the tree before heading back to the atrium. As he meanders down the stairs and through the various corridors, he considers Jesse—his mop of wavy brown hair, his scruffy beard, his disarming smile, his twinkling eyes. Not to mention his delightfully solid body and the warm scent of cigar smoke and woodsy cologne that surrounds him at all times. He doesn’t quite know what to do with his increasingly strong feelings for the handsome librarian. His first instinct is to push them down to prevent any distractions from his task, but he has to admit that the situation does provide a welcome respite from his frustration and fear.

Hanzo takes a deep breath and smiles, remembering the surprisingly comforting feel of Jesse sprawled on top of him as he lay on the floor. As he pushes open the door to the atrium, there's a spring in his step and a wide grin on his face that he's struggling to hide.

 

Jesse isn’t really expecting to see Hanzo again that afternoon, so he's pleasantly surprised when Hanzo shows back up at his desk only an hour or so after leaving. He's smiling and looks completely recovered from the excitement of their morning excursion. In his left hand Hanzo is holding a branch covered in pink flowers.

"Where'd ya get that?" Jesse asks, his gaze zeroing in on the branch. He's quite sure there aren't any blossoming trees in the Library.

"The oddest thing," Hanzo replies. "There was a large sakura tree in my room. Covered in flowers. It had grown up through the table." He cocks his head at Jesse, who blinks in surprise.

"You don't say." Jesse sits back in his chair, folding his arms across his stomach and doing his best to look nonchalant. His ears have heated up something awful.

"Is that strange? Angela told me that the Library shapes itself around its patrons."

Jesse chuckles. "Yeah, it does," he admits, "but usually after _years_."

"Years," Hanzo repeats, twirling the branch between his fingers. His dragons glide out to sniff the flowers. "Then why—"

"No idea," Jesse interrupts. "I mean, I dunno. Bit of a mystery all round, I reckon." He looks down at the book in front of him, avoiding Hanzo's gaze.

"I see," Hanzo says. "I came back down to see if there was anything else you wanted to look at today." 

Jesse stands up with a sigh. "I got one more idea. Come with me." 

He leads Hanzo up a few levels until they're on the third floor. The northern part of this level houses a lot of books which are good for people just starting out with magic—simple cantrips, how-to guides, and a lot of the lesser-known _Dummies_ range of titles. Jesse had been mortally offended the first time Ana handed him a copy of _Fire Magic for Dummies_ , but he had found it surprisingly useful. He ponders giving Hanzo the equivalent book for lightning magic, but decides to leave that for now.

They're passing by the third floor reading rooms when a door opens and Dave pokes his head out. "Hey, Jesse, just the man I wanted to see," he begins. "Do you know where—"

"Demon!" Hanzo yells, and his eyes glow bright blue as he raises his arm. The familiar crackle of static fills the air, and his hair lifts up with the sudden wind that rushes down the corridor, bringing with it the acrid smell of ozone.

"No!" Jesse cries, leaping in between Hanzo and Dave and pushing Hanzo's arm down. "Hanzo, what the hell?"

Hanzo takes a step back, the bright light in his eyes flickering out and his look of determination turning to one of confusion. "Jesse, he's a demon!" He gestures at Dave, who has shrunk back against the wall.

"Yeah?"

"A _demon_!"

"Jesse, did you bring a demon hunter up here?" Dave asks. "You promised I wouldn't have to worry about that!" 

Jesse glances at him and to be honest, he can see Hanzo's point. Despite the jeans, band t-shirt, and Converse sneakers, Dave is _definitely_ a demon—the long red tail poking out of the back of his pants, the curved horns sticking up through his mop of dark brown hair, and gleaming black eyes are a dead giveaway. Not to mention the crackling fire that echoes through his every word, and the way the air around him shimmers with a dark energy.

"Sorry, buddy," Jesse says, "but you might wanna just go back into your room for a bit and let me deal with this." He looks at Dave imploringly, and the demon finally nods and takes a step back through the open door. He watches Hanzo the entire time, his face creased up in deep distrust.

"First off, yes, that's a demon," Jesse says, "but second of all, you absolutely _cannot_ kill him."

"He is a _demon_!"

Jesse sighs and runs his hand over his face. "Look, let's keep going. I'll explain more once we get there."

Hanzo glares at him, and the rest of the short journey passes in uncomfortable silence. Once they reach the large, airy room with the books Jesse wants, he closes the door and points Hanzo towards a seat. Jesse pulls out the chair next to him and straddles it to face Hanzo.

"Okay, look, I get it," he begins. "You're a demon hunter. I've met a few of your kind before. Y'all look at things pretty black and white, I've noticed."

"There isn't much to debate about 'demons are bad', Jesse."

"Most of them are, yeah. I've encountered some right awful ones before, but not _all_ of them are bad and need killing. You gotta look at it on a case-by-case basis."

"But—"

"Dave's been a patron of this place for a good five years now. He's just a guy trying to make his way in the world. He works at Waffle House, alright? And no, he doesn't look like that out in the mundane world. People can relax here in the Library."

Hanzo's hands clench on the table. "But surely he has taken possession of that body? And the owner would not have consented!"

"Funny thing is, the guy _did_ consent. It seems like he'd had a lot of stuff go wrong, and when a demon showed up wanting to possess him, he said 'sure, take the whole thing, and you can have the depression and crippling debt as well'." Jesse chuckles briefly. "And now Dave's got a full time job, he's dealing with his depression a lot better, he's almost finished paying off his debt, and he's learning a lot about magic in the process."

"Consensual possession?" Hanzo's eyes widen. "This is—a _thing_?"

"It's rare, yeah, but it does happen. Weren't you telling me earlier that things ain't always as they seem in your line of work?"

Hanzo stares at Jesse, his brows drawn together in thought. "I—I never—I don't know about this." He glances away, a frown on his face. 

Jesse sighs. "I feel like you've been looking at this as a good versus evil situation. But the world is a lot more complicated than that. I never thought to ask you this before because I assumed you'd already tried, but have you tried talking to the kitsune? Seeing what she wants?"

"She wants my brother," Hanzo snaps. "I believe I made that clear already."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Jesse says, holding his hands up defensively, "but what I meant was… okay, hang on, let me rephrase." He takes a deep breath and rubs his beard absently as he thinks. "She wants your brother, yes. But wouldn't it be easier for her to have him if she wasn't actually possessing him?"

"She knows that the moment she releases him, I will _kill_ her," Hanzo stresses.

"So you've told her this?"

Hanzo nods. His frown deepens, and he stands up and starts to pace. "She cannot keep him! But she will not release him, and she knows I will not take direct action while she is within him. It is—an impasse." He stops pacing and whirls around to face Jesse. "She is _evil_ , Jesse."

Jesse runs a hand through his hair in exasperation. For a seemingly intelligent guy, Hanzo does seem to be painfully set in his way of thinking. "What if I talked to her?" he asks.

"You—what?"

"Let me talk to her. I could be a neutral party. See if I can figure a way out of this for everyone. Obviously she's worried about her own safety. And you're worried about your brother. I'm sure we can work something out."

Hanzo sits down just as suddenly as he stood, pressing his face into his hands. "I suppose there is nothing else left for us to do. I cannot have my brother beholden to such a creature indefinitely, and time is running out for us." He sighs loudly. "Very well. I will take you to her."

 

Hanzo is not sure about this plan at all. But Jesse has been nothing but helpful—or tried to be—and there can surely be no harm in letting him talk to the kitsune. Once the Library has closed for the evening, he follows Jesse out the main door and down the road to where his truck is parked. It's only a fifteen minute walk to Hanzo's motel, but Jesse insists on driving them.

The short trip is silent, Hanzo too worked up to say anything, and Jesse obviously thinking about what he's going to say to the kitsune. Jesse's nose wrinkles a little as he peers through his windshield at the rundown motel where Hanzo is staying with Genji.

"It was the only place close to the Library," Hanzo justifies, glancing away so he doesn't have to see Jesse's reaction. He hates this place; he had to buy cockroach baits and he keeps a can of bug spray next to his bed at all times. The floors are so grimy he hasn't even been taking his shoes off at the door, unwilling to subject himself to whatever is living in the carpets. But he doesn't have much choice. He withdrew as much cash from the Shimada-gumi accounts as he could before his access was cut off, and he doesn't know how much longer he needs to make that money last.

"Oh, honey," Jesse murmurs, "you shoulda told me." He turns to look at Hanzo. "I got rooms in the Library you could stay in."

"What about Genji?"

Jesse chews his lip thoughtfully. "Library's pretty secure. I can probably find somewhere for him as well."

"You have done enough—" Hanzo begins, but Jesse interrupts.

"Naw, I'm just happy to help," he insists. "Now, let's go see this kitsune that's got your brother by the short and curlies."

Hanzo cringes at the visual.

"Oh, it's you," the creature lying on one of the beds says as he enters. His brother's form is surrounded by empty chip packets, and Hanzo wrinkles his nose. 

"You could at least clean up after yourself," he snaps. "You know there are vermin here."

"Do I look like I care?"

Hanzo sighs and moves out of the doorway so Jesse can come in. The kitsune perks up at the sight of him and sits forward, brushing some of the chip packets out of the way as she moves. "Who's this?" she asks, her eyes flashing bright blue. "Have you brought someone to kill me? You know that will just kill your brother as well."

Jesse clears his throat. "No, ma'am, I'm here to see if I can help this situation. I'm hoping you'll give me your side of the story."

"Why should I talk to you?" she asks, instantly wary. "You'll just try to evict me. It won't work, cowboy. Genji is mine!"

Jesse glances at Hanzo. "Hey, do you mind leaving us alone for a few?" he murmurs. "I think I need to hear her side of things without you here."

The kitsune glares at him suspiciously, clearly not trusting him, but Jesse smiles at her. Surprisingly, she sits back, slightly mollified. Jesse's charms are not lost on anyone, it would appear. Hanzo wonders, not for the first time, if Jesse possesses a subtle magic which makes people feel more comfortable around him. 

"Very well," Hanzo says quietly. "But I will be just outside the door."

"Thank you kindly," Jesse says with a smile, and Hanzo leaves the room.

 

He paces the parking lot, seriously questioning the wisdom of leaving Jesse alone in the same room as that creature. Eventually he goes to sit on the hood of Jesse's truck, watching the last streaks of pink light up the wide bowl of the sky as the sun fades and the stars come out. If the climate wasn't so awful, Florida might be quite a pretty place to live. But the humidity is even worse than it gets back home, and Hanzo grimaces as he peels the fabric away from his sweaty chest and tries to fan a bit of air down his shirt.

Jesse has been in there an awfully long time, and Hanzo hasn't heard any sounds of a fight yet. Hanzo glances at his watch and realises it's been almost half an hour—surely enough time for Jesse to find out what he needs? He's about to approach the door and knock when it opens and Jesse appears.

"What did—"

"C'mon," Jesse interrupts, "there's a diner down the road that does pretty good pie. It's on me." He all but drags Hanzo back into his truck, and they set off again.

"Mind if I smoke?" Jesse asks once they're on the road. Hanzo nods and he cracks the window, deftly lighting a cigar with one hand as he drives. 

"What happened?" Hanzo asks a minute or so later.

Jesse's eyes are trained on the road, and he shakes his head. "In a minute. I think better with food in my belly."

Hanzo huffs. "Very well." 

Jesse drives in silence for a while, his shoulders tense as he works his way through an entire cigar. Hanzo leans towards the window, staring absently at the headlights of the car behind him in the side mirror. They're inordinately bright, and he realises that the car is uncomfortably close behind them.

"Jesse," he says quietly, "is that car following us?"

"I got my eye on it," Jesse replies, and Hanzo glances at him to see his eyes flicking back and forth from the rear view mirror to the road.

Hanzo frowns, a cold fear clenching his stomach for a moment. He forces himself to relax. He's safe here. Surely they haven't been able to track him this far yet. He inhales deeply, his fingers twitching to grab the cigar from Jesse's hand and take a drag to calm his nerves.

"It's nothin'," Jesse says eventually as he turns a corner and watches as the car that was behind them continues going straight. "We're fine, it's nothing." He takes a long inhale from his cigar, blowing the smoke out the window.

 

It's not until they're seated in an only slightly grimy diner—the plastic seats are a garish red, but the music isn't too loud and pie does actually sound really good—that Jesse tells Hanzo what happened back in the motel room.

"She thinks you're gonna kill her, or banish her, if she lets Genji go," he says bluntly.

"Well, yes," Hanzo says, confused. "We went over this earlier."

"And I think you oughta reconsider your position," Jesse says. A waitress comes past and, without being prompted, fills two mugs with coffee from the pot. Hanzo winces at the sight of the thick, black liquid, and liberally adds creamer and sugar to his mug once she's left with their pie orders.

"What on earth do you mean?" Hanzo asks. 

Jesse ponders for a moment, his forehead creasing with thought. "Okay, look," he finally says, reaching across the slightly sticky table and taking Hanzo's hand. "She doesn't want to hurt your brother."

"But she has cast a spell of some kind on him! I cannot allow her to continue to exert this control over him."

"A spell?" Jesse frowns. "You didn't mention a spell. What if she didn't?" he asks gently. "What if Genji knew exactly what she was, and entered into the relationship—and this possession—willingly?"

"You don't know the full story!" Hanzo snaps.

"Then why don't you tell me your side? I've heard her version of events, but what you've told me so far is starting to sound like it's been mighty condensed."

Hanzo sits back and sighs. "I suppose you have earned it," he concedes. Jesse's palm is warm and dry against his own, and he takes a fortifying sip of his coffee before beginning.

 

Genji is going to be the death of him, Hanzo swears. Every weekend he is sent by his uncle to drag his younger brother out of trouble and back to the castle, and the punishment inflicted upon Genji each time is clearly not working. He's starting to worry that his brother does this less because he enjoys it, and more due to a self-destructive nature. Truth be told, he does not know _what_ compels Genji these days. They have drifted apart in recent years, particularly after their father died and the full weight of the clan business and expectations fell upon Hanzo's shoulders. He wishes his younger brother was more supportive of his ascension to oyabun—he could really use a friend.

He looks up at the building and sighs. It's in Hanamura's most exclusive district, an area with which he is familiar, but he's never set foot inside this particular place. It's an incredibly high class brothel, only open to the most discerning—rich—customers. He's heard that the waiting list to become a client is a mile long and is subject to more background checks than joining the secret service.

And somewhere, in this building, is his brother. 

Entry through the front door is out of the question. There is absolutely no point in identifying himself—the proprietors will care little for his name or his family's standing. So he needs another way in. Hanzo scouts around the side of the building and spots his way up.

Genji's locator beacon tells Hanzo that he's on the seventh level. Thankfully he's not too high up—the building stretches almost fifty floors high—and it's easy for Hanzo to slide his crampons onto the soles of his prosthetic legs and start climbing the side. When he reaches the right level and is able to spot Genji's blip only metres away from him, he carefully cuts through the glass, reaches in, and opens the window.

To his relief, no alarms start blaring. He silently hops inside and finds himself in a dimly-lit yet extravagantly decorated corridor. Removing his crampons and tucking them away, he pads quietly down the hall, checking his locator beacon until he finds the door to the room Genji is in.

Hanzo debates knocking, but does not wish to give Genji a chance to escape this time. He kneels to start picking the lock, and is relieved when the door pops open with minimal effort. Getting into the building is the tricky part, not getting into the rooms. He quietly pushes the door all the way open and enters the room.

To his surprise, it's dark and quiet. He creeps towards the bed and sees two shapes wrapped around each other, fast asleep. Perhaps this will be easier than he had thought—Genji has apparently finished whatever he came here to do, and all Hanzo needs to do is get his brother dressed and out of here without causing a ruckus.

"Who are _you_?" a voice asks, and Hanzo recoils as one of the figures sits up in bed and stares at him. Her eyes are startlingly bright blue in the dimness of the room, and Hanzo frowns.

"Wake up, Genji," he snaps, seeing no point in being quiet now. His brother jerks awake and, seeing Hanzo in the room, pulls the covers up higher. He flicks the bedside light on and squints at Hanzo.

"What are you doing here?" he grumbles. "Get out!"

Hanzo shakes his head. "Not without you. You know why I am here. And you know you cannot avoid what is coming." 

Genji's eyes narrow. "No," he states. "I am _not_ coming with you. Not this time." He puts an arm around the woman next to him. "This is Yuki. We are are leaving Hanamura. We are going to get married!"

Hanzo blinks, his eyes wide. "Genji, she is a sex worker! She doesn't love you!" He cannot believe this; cannot believe his brother has done something so foolish as to fall for this woman.

"I _do_ love him!" Yuki cries out. "And soon he will be beyond your control!"

" _My_ control?" Hanzo spits. "You think I do this willingly?" He points down at his legs—metal from the knees down—and glares at her. "I have already paid the price for disobedience."

"Please," Genji begs. "Hanzo, please just let us go. We want nothing to do with the clan!"

"If you leave, they will kill me," Hanzo mumbles. "They will kill me, and they will hunt you down, and they will kill you, too."

"Then come with us." Genji tosses the covers back and pulls a pair of boxers on. He stands and approaches Hanzo, his hand out. "We can flee together. Be free of them. Surely you know that if we stay they will eventually try to kill us! We can leave before that happens!"

"I—I cannot," Hanzo gasps, taking a step back from Genji. His mind flashes back to that night he failed Uncle Masato's task. The night Masato and Hashimoto took Hanzo's legs for his incompetence. A harsh reminder that although he held the title of oyabun, it was not yet truly his. Hanzo's position is precarious, and Genji is _not_ helping.

"Then we are at an impasse," Genji says, lowering his hand.

Hanzo shakes his head. "No," he says sadly, "we are not." He pulls a tiny dart gun from inside his shirt, and before Genji can comprehend what is happening, the dart is in his shoulder and he is collapsing back onto the bed.

"What did you do?" Yuki asks, looking at him in horror, and Hanzo glances back at her impassively.

"I have saved his life," he says, and moves towards Genji to pick him up. Getting him down the side of the building will be tricky, but it is doable. He's done similar things with heavier weights, and—

"You will not take him from me!" Yuki cries, and pushes Hanzo away. He realises that her fingernails have become claws, and before he can do anything, she wraps her entire body around Genji and _melts_ into him. Mere seconds pass before her form has vanished, merging with Genji's, and when his brother opens his eyes, they are bright blue.

 

"I managed to get them both out of the building and back to Shimada castle. I had hoped that the powerful magic practitioners in my family would help, but instead they turned on us. Apparently, having one of the Shimada scions possessed by a kitsune would have brought shame upon the family.” He clenches his fist, and Jesse’s hand tightens around his. “My own uncle wielded the sword! It was only thanks to my dragons that I was able to take Genji and escape.”

Jesse’s eyes are wide. “How’d you manage to convince the kitsune to come with you?”

“The binding magic I have used is simple but strong. I can sense how far she is from me, and the bond becomes painful for her if she is too far away.”

“And she ain’t tried to hurt you?”

“Only with words,” Hanzo replies. “To be honest, I am surprised she hasn’t actually tried to kill me yet. She threatens it enough.” He frowns. “In any case, we were able to avoid the clan's assassins that were sent after us, and once we got to America, I began searching for a way to free my brother. I have spent the past month dragging this _thing_ around with me, this creature wearing my brother's body like an overcoat, trying to separate them again."

"That's terrible," Jesse breathes. The warmth of his hand is a comfort, and Hanzo wonders briefly if he's using his magic.

"I have tried everything," Hanzo says bitterly. "I have been raised to hunt demons, but this thing defies everything I have learned. I was unable to make contact with any of the Shimada allies here in America, as word would return back to my family immediately. They are already close behind me—three times we have had to abruptly leave what I thought was a safe place to stay, and twice I have been forced to leave behind bodies of their assassins. I cannot stay here much longer, or they will find us here as well." 

Hanzo sighs. "It took almost a month before I was eventually able to find your fabled Library, and I owe much of that to my dragons." As he mentions them, they both perk up, their little noses appearing just above his shirt sleeve. He gestures quickly and they subside before anyone else in the diner can notice them. "They managed to contact similar spirits, and through them, people who could speak to spirits. That's how I found you." He gestures at Jesse with his coffee cup.

"I assume there's no one back in Japan who can help?" Jesse asks. A frown has been steadily growing on his face, particularly after Hanzo mentioned his fear of being tracked down here.

"There may be, but I can't go back," Hanzo replies. "Not without being killed. They will be watching all the airports. All the seaports. It is simply not possible. I am only alive now because the clan's strength is tied to our homeland and America is too big a place to find me easily. I still worry, though. They have already found us three times. How close are they to finding us here?" He takes a gulp of his coffee. His hand shakes as he sets his mug down, rattling it against the cutlery.

"Have you seen any sign of them recently?"

Hanzo nods. "I do not know if I am being needlessly paranoid. But every time I see a black car, every time I think I have been followed… I worry. And with this kitsune possessing Genji, if we were found, I hate to think what she would do."

“Is she malicious? I mean, is she likely to go out and wreak havoc if she weren’t bound?”

"She seems quite placid when I'm not trying to exorcise her. Mostly she appears content to spend all day lying on her bed and watching Netflix." He chuckles softly. "My brother is getting fat. He will not be happy about this when I free him."

"And you think this is your fault," Jesse says.

Hanzo's head hangs down. "If I had known what she was—"

"Hey, you had no reason to even suspect she wasn't human," Jesse says, and gives him a reassuring smile. Hanzo sits back, but doesn't take his hand away. He's about to speak again when the waitress slides a plate of pie down in front of each of them, and he gives her a smile and a murmured thanks before she leaves again.

"Jesse—"

"Try the pie," Jesse interrupts, and picks up his fork with his prosthetic hand. "It's good, I swear."

The pie does look good. Hanzo has never had sweet pie like this before, and the layers of cream filling and chocolate look decadent and delicious. He picks up a fork and takes a mouthful.

"What did she tell you?" he mumbles around the pie. It _does_ taste good; Hanzo quickly swallows and takes another bite. 

Jesse sighs and puts his fork down to run his free hand through his hair, wincing as a strand catches in the joints of his fingers. "According to her, they've known each other for a long time. Genji's been hiding her, knowing what your family is like. Taking punishment for sneaking out because he felt like she was worth it."

"And when I caught them?"

"They'd been making plans to run away together for months. She saw what she did as a last resort."

"But she has been threatening to kill both of us if I exorcise her!"

"Just a threat, darlin'," Jesse replies, his voice sad. 

"A threat?" 

"She ain’t gonna kill you,” Jesse says, “because Genji would never forgive her. She just wanted you to let them go. Would that really be so hard?"

"I thought Genji did not consent," Hanzo says softly. "Are you telling me that this is a situation like your friend Dave? A consensual possession?" A crumb of pie crust falls out of his mouth as he speaks, and he covers his mouth with his hand, mortified. Jesse just chuckles and squeezes his hand tighter. His finger starts gently caressing the sensitive skin on the inside of Hanzo's wrist, and Hanzo bites his lip. Does Jesse even _realise_ what he's doing to him?

"I can see why you'd think your brother wasn't into it," Jesse allows, apparently blissfully unaware of how the small movement of his finger is sending waves of desire through Hanzo's body. "Now, she's willing to let Genji talk to you for a few minutes if you promise to think about other solutions to this problem. She's of the opinion that you and your brother have bigger issues to worry about than this, and wants to find a way out just as much as you do."

"How can I trust her?" Hanzo says. "She has given me no reason to." He should pull his hand away, try to compose himself, but as soon as he makes the slightest movement, Jesse's grip tightens.

"And you've given her no reason to trust you," Jesse replies, pointing his fork at Hanzo. Hanzo looks down, chastened. He's right—Hanzo has been nothing but mistrustful of the kitsune, and has not been particularly nice to her over the past month. With good reason, he thinks. It's hard to consider other options when you've been brought up to think of any demonic entity—particularly ones that possess people—as something that needs killing. This is the first time in his life he's been told that there may be another way of looking at things.

Several minutes pass in silence as they both demolish their slices of pie. Jesse has settled for simply holding Hanzo's hand now, and he's both relieved and disappointed. The coffee is nowhere near as bad as he had feared, and he finds himself flagging down the waitress when she passes by to give him a refill.

"There you go, sweetheart," she says cheerfully, and Hanzo can't resist smiling back at her open face. He glances back at Jesse to see him grinning at him, and Hanzo suddenly finds himself blushing at the attention. He has stopped making any attempt to detach himself from Jesse's hand, even though their palms are both getting a bit sweaty. He glances down at the crumbs remaining on his plate, and nods. He has to do this—for Genji's sake, if nothing else. 

"I will talk to her," he says.

"Well, good!" Jesse says. "Now, I don't know about you, but I could really go another piece of pie."

"I have always wanted to try pumpkin pie," Hanzo comments, and Jesse smiles widely at him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo finally sits down to talk with the kitsune, and some unpleasant truths emerge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the slight delay on this one! Both my editor and I had medical stuff crop up in the past day or so which has laid us both low.
> 
> Also please note the additional tags of implied/referenced child abuse and implied/referenced torture. Nothing graphic - and feel free to message me over on tumblr if you want more information before reading this chapter!

They all agree that the Library is the safest place for Hanzo to speak with the kitsune. Jesse can keep everyone safer there than he could in some dingy motel room, and Yuki won't be able to get far or do too much damage if their conversation turns sour. Hanzo feels safe in the Library, perhaps safer than he has in months, and he's all too happy to take Jesse up on his offer.

All it takes is a charming smile and a few kind words from Jesse and they're on their way back to the Library, plus one green-haired kitsune sitting in the back seat of Jesse's truck and critiquing his driving skills.

"You are better than Hanzo, though," she admits. "One time, he crashed a car worth almost a hundred million yen."

"I'm sorry, it was worth _what_?" Jesse blurts out.

"Almost a million dollars," Hanzo says, covering his face and sighing. "And I was only eighteen!" 

"His first car," Yuki confides. "It was a present from his father."

"I never wanted it," Hanzo mutters. The gift had been for the sake of appearances—to show his eldest son the wealth and power of the clan. Hanzo had felt a sick kind of satisfaction after the crash.

Jesse glances at him, and Hanzo turns to look out the window.

It's the longest five minute drive of Hanzo's life, and he's incredibly relieved when they finally pull into the decrepit parking lot. As soon as they get out of the truck, Yuki flinches back from the derelict Blockbuster hiding the Library.

"Hey, you okay?" Jesse asks.

"It doesn't want me in there," she says, turning her face away and closing her eyes.

"Yeah, but it'll let you in if I'm with you," Jesse reassures her. 

Hanzo bites his tongue. She has possessed his brother and made his life miserable, regardless of her reasons. Seeing the man he's infatuated with treating her so nicely rubs Hanzo the wrong way. Breathing deeply through his nose, Hanzo resists the urge to grab her by the arm and march her towards the entrance. 

Jesse murmurs under his breath as he leads them through the choking brambles and turgid air and, after a moment of hesitation, the door opens for him as usual.

 

"I still think this is a terrible idea," Hanzo snaps, stabbing a finger in Yuki's direction as he paces the small room. He tugs at his collar, feeling claustrophobic in this cramped space with its low roof and grim stone walls. His temper flares when he glances at Yuki and sees her sitting comfortably cross-legged on the floor opposite him. She grins, her teeth looking abnormally sharp in Genji's mouth.

"Hey," Jesse says reassuringly, raising his prosthetic hand up in front of Hanzo. "You promised, remember?" 

Hanzo takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. His dragons, which had been frantically circling his arm and snarling at Yuki, whimper softly and curl around his neck. Their whiskers tickle his ears, and he absentmindedly reaches up to pet them. Kaminari croons slightly under his touch, while his brother licks Hanzo's fingertips. Tiny sparks of static electricity flicker off his tongue, and Hanzo feels the hairs on his arm stand on end.

"Yes," he says quietly. "I did promise."

"I know this ain't what you want, but—" Jesse shrugs helplessly. "—I'm outta ideas, and you're outta options."

Hanzo pinches the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up. "I know. My apologies, Jesse." He turns to face Yuki again, trying to school his face into something less annoyed. "Well, then?"

Yuki blinks slowly and her entire form seems to _shift_. When she opens her mouth, the voice is markedly different. "Hanzo?"

Hanzo frowns. "Genji? Is that you?"

He gives Hanzo a half-smile. "Right here, brother."

Suddenly at a loss for words, Hanzo sits down heavily on the floor next to his brother and buries his face in his hands. "Is it true? Are you a willing participant in this?"

He hears movement and glances up to see Genji crouching in front of him, his hand out. "I am," he confirms. "It is a long story. And I apologise for not telling you sooner, but—" He shrugs.

Hanzo laughs without any humour. "I would not have believed you. You know how we were brought up."

"All demons are evil. Yes, I am well aware." Genji frowns and sits down next to Hanzo. Across the room, Jesse leans against the wall and does a good impression of not listening to their conversation, but Hanzo's pretty sure he is hearing every word. 

"Genji—"

"We have been lied to," Genji interrupts, "for our entire lives. Manipulated. By those who were supposed to care for us!"

"What are you talking about?"

Genji takes a deep breath, and Hanzo glances at him to see that he is almost quivering with rage. "Our uncle, Masato, and Hashimoto, our so-called tutor," he spits out. "They were _lying_ to us. Hanzo, we both possess powerful magic!"

"Yes, the dragons—"

"Not the dragons!" Genji raises his hand and Hanzo feels the hair on the backs of his arms raise up as static fills the air. He can smell ozone, a scent he usually associates with using his dragons, and Genji's eyes flash bright white as a bolt of lightning appears from nowhere and slams into the centre of the room.

"Jesus!" Jesse yelps, hands flying up to protect himself from the blast.

"How— _how_ did—"

"You can do it too," Genji says. "Did you think it was all the dragons?" He takes Hanzo's hand, and Hanzo can still feel the static electricity running through his brother's flesh. As Hanzo watches, Genji's dragon emerges from his tattooed left arm and curls around their joined hands. Her green form tickles a little, and Kaminari and Inazuma rise up to join her.

"How did you find this out?" he breathes. Surely Genji is mistaken; their dragons are incredibly powerful, and the things they do have frequently been mistaken for the acts of a powerful wizard.

"Yuki has been teaching me," Genji replies. "We have known each other for months, since long before you caught us." He smiles sadly. "We were always been planning to leave together. She was helping me recover my suppressed magic. If you had not found us, we would have vanished into the night. But now… Hanzo, we could teach you, too."

"But why would they conceal this from us?" Hanzo asks, frowning in disbelief. "Surely us both being able to wield powerful magic would only aid their cause, not hinder it."

Genji's face darkens and he grimaces, pushing his hair back with his free hand. It is still that hideous shade of green, although there's almost an inch of black regrowth at the roots.

"They used you. Forced you to rely on them. Our uncle wanted to break you. And the worst thing? He enjoyed it! Seeing you so beaten down—it might have been the only thing that kept you alive." Genji looks troubled. "I was so scared for you, brother. You were completely under Masato and Hashimoto's thumbs and I could not see a way out for you."

Hanzo's throat feels like it has closed over, and he forces himself to breathe. 

"You know Masato wanted to lead the clan instead of our father," Genji continues. "But if we had realised how powerful we were, there is no way he would have been able to control us when our father died. It was a long game he and Hashimoto were playing." He gestures at Hanzo's legs. "If you had been able to blast our uncle away with one word, do you really think he would have succeeded in mutilating you like that?"

Hanzo touches his legs, still struggling to get enough air in his lungs. Genji’s words stab at him like knives, and phantom pains spike sharply in his missing lower legs. Pain, blood, thrashing and trying to get away. It had been his fault, he had failed, but there was so much _blood_. Suddenly the room feels too small and spins around him.

"Hanzo—"

"I—" He forces himself to his feet, ignoring Genji clutching at his arm. He pulls himself loose and flees from the room, past a surprised-looking Jesse, pushing his way through empty rooms and corridors in the basement until he finds himself in a large, cavernous space. It's dark and cold, but torches sputter to life when he enters, and it's big enough that he doesn't feel like his lungs are being crushed in his chest.

Hanzo leans against the wall, pressing his forehead to the cool stones and gulping in lungfuls of air. His head spins as he breathes much too fast. Breathe in, breathe out, he repeats the mantra until he feels in control. He can feel his dragons twining nervously around his arm, almost whimpering as they try to comfort him in his panic.

_"I am afraid your magic is too weak to be of any use," Hashimoto says. The man is small and weedy, an unassuming figure with thinning hair and thick glasses._

_"But—" Hanzo is about to point out that he is sure the lightning bolt that hit the sakura tree outside his room was his doing._

_"Do not question me!" The tutor's eyes flash red, and Hanzo takes a step back, clutching his stuffed dragon._

_"I'm sorry," he says quietly, and gasps when his dragon is torn from his grip._

_"You are almost ten," Hashimoto sneers, "far too old for such childish things." He tucks Tomo away into his bag, forcing the creature in so his neck bends unnaturally. Hanzo looks away—he can't bear to see his favourite toy hurt like that. "But perhaps I will let you have him back once you have shown me that you can do as you are told."_

_Hanzo bites his lip, breathing deeply to keep the tears at bay. "Yes, sensei," he says, and bows. Genji watches from the corner of the room, his eyes wide, and Hanzo sees him push his own stuffed dragon under the bed with one foot._

"Hanzo?" 

Hanzo turns with a snarl. "Leave me alone!"

Jesse takes a step back, his hands raised in defence. "Just wanted to talk," he says softly.

Hanzo closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

"Nothing to apologise for, darlin'," Jesse says, closing the door and coming over to Hanzo. "That was some pretty intense stuff Genji just told you."

"I had no reason not to believe my teachers," Hanzo says. "They were very sympathetic when I was younger. Poor Sojiro, such a shame the Shimada heirs have such little talent." He spits the last words out, vitriol bubbling up inside his chest. He had felt so guilty as a child, ashamed at letting the family down.

"That's pretty fucked up," Jesse agrees. "And they were responsible for—" He gestures at Hanzo's legs.

"I spectacularly failed a task my uncle set me and shamed the clan. My failure brought some of our family's less... _salubrious_ dealings to the attention of the authorities, and we had to close down some operations. Masato and my teacher punished me by having me held down and removing my legs below the knee." Hanzo meets Jesse's gaze.

Jesse inhales sharply. "That's _horrendous_ ," he says.

"I realise now that this was contrived, that I was set up to fail. They simply wanted an excuse to punish me and keep me in line. Any time I considered disobedience, I merely had to remember that night and what Masato and Hashimoto were capable of, and I did whatever they wanted of me."

"Jesus," Jesse mumbles, his face pale. "And I thought losing my arm was traumatic."

"How _did_ you lose it?" Hanzo asks. 

Jesse looks away, rubbing the side of his face in embarrassment. "A 'gator got it," he admits. "Not long after I moved to this hell state. Bit embarrassing, but there you go. That'll teach me to go wandering in the swamp. I'm a desert man, I'm used to rattlers and scorpions, not giant lizards with sharp teeth!"

Hanzo covers his mouth to conceal a smile. It must have been a horrible experience, but Jesse looks so embarrassed by it that Hanzo can't help but be amused. A snort escapes him, and he laughs aloud.

"Well that's nice," Jesse says, clutching a hand to his chest as if he has been wounded. "Mocking my trauma!"

"Sorry," Hanzo says, putting on a straight face, but Jesse's smiling at him.

"You okay?" Jesse murmurs, leaning against the wall next to Hanzo.

"I—I will be," Hanzo says softly, his gaze downcast. "I had this silly idea that when this was all over, after I had rescued Genji, I might be able to go back."

"Yeah?"

"Of course, I cannot go back. Especially now."

"D'ya want to go back?"

Hanzo shakes his head. "The only reason I would go back is to take my vengeance upon my uncle," he grinds out. "After what he did… Not only the way he treated us, but manipulating us all our lives! Suppressing our magic and lying to us! All because he wanted power for himself." Hanzo clenches his fists, and Kaminari and Inazuma materialise around his neck. They nuzzle him, whimpering softly, and he lowers his head, his eyes closed. His entire body is trembling, and he can't seem to make it stop. 

"Hanzo—"

"All the work I did, it was for nothing. And what do I have to show for it?"

"You have your brother," Jesse says. 

"I almost lost him forever! I expect that if I had not brought Genji back that night, my next task would have been to kill him in order to show my loyalty. Not that it would have done any good." He takes a deep breath, still shaking. "To be honest, finding out that they lied about my magic—it isn't a surprise, after all they have done."

"Hey, it's okay," Jesse says, reaching up to touch his face. 

Hanzo blinks and stares at Jesse, whose constant warmth drives away the chill of the dank air in the room. Without thinking, he turns and steps into Jesse’s open arms.

Jesse is warm and solid, and Hanzo buries his face in his shoulder and trembles. His glasses press painfully into the bridge of his nose but he barely feels them as he breathes deeply and finally regains his equilibrium. He can hear Jesse murmuring comforting words, but all Hanzo cares about is wrapping his arms around Jesse's waist and holding him so tight he doesn't think he'll ever let go.

He could get used to this. 

"You okay?" Jesse asks softly, and Hanzo raises his face to see Jesse peering down at him, a warm smile curving his mouth upwards. He's close enough that Hanzo can feel his breath, and before he can say anything, Jesse lifts a hand and gently cups Hanzo's face. He stares at Jesse's mouth, thinking about the soft curve of his lips, wondering how Jesse would taste, and catches himself, blinking and quickly looking up to meet Jesse's gaze. Jesse's cheeks are flushed and his mouth falls open slightly as he wets his lips and glances down at Hanzo's own mouth.

Hanzo tightens his grip around Jesse's waist, his heart thundering in his chest. The metal hand on his lower back pulls him forward slightly, so he's pressed even more firmly against Jesse, and he's helpless to prevent himself from tilting his head up slightly and leaning in.

"Hanzo! Are you in— _oh_." The door bursts open and Hanzo and Jesse spring apart, turning to face Genji, who has a very knowing smile on his face.

"Genji—" he begins, but Genji interrupts him with a wave of his hand.

"I will leave you be," he says, smirking, and backs out of the room again, closing the door behind him.

Hanzo turns back to Jesse but the moment has gone, and he stands awkwardly, not sure what to do with his hands. Jesse looks to be in a similar predicament, folding his arms then unfolding them again and putting his hands in his pockets.

"You feelin' okay?" he asks softly, and Hanzo nods.

"Thank you," he murmurs. He looks around the room, trying desperately to think of something to say when Jesse pipes up.

"Oh! You need somewhere to sleep tonight."

Hanzo's entire face burns bright red, from his hairline down to his chest. "What?" he blurts out.

"No! I mean—I can't in good conscience let you and Genji go back to that motel. I've got rooms here. Empty rooms! Not my room, I mean, unless—I mean—"

The tension broken, Hanzo laughs quietly and takes pity on Jesse. "Thank you, that is very considerate. I _am_ tired."

 

By the time Jesse leads Hanzo to his room, he's exhausted, the terrible day catching up to him. Jesse opens the door to the room the Library has created for him, and Hanzo is surprised to see that instead of the plain, simple room he'd shown Genji to earlier, this room is beautifully decorated in warm, subdued colours. There are pink petals strewn across the extraordinarily wide bed, and the lighting is soft and inviting. 

"Hmm," Hanzo hums thoughtfully. He turns to Jesse, who seems to be avoiding his gaze. "Thank you again," he says quietly, and puts a hand on Jesse's arm.

"Aw hell, it's nothin'," Jesse replies, scratching at his beard with his prosthetic hand. Jesse's arm is warm under Hanzo's hand, and all he can think about is continuing where they left off earlier before they had been interrupted. He could so easily just push the door shut and drag Jesse down onto that huge bed with him.

"It is not nothing," Hanzo continues stubbornly, stepping in front of Jesse so he can look him in the eye. "You have gone out of your way to help me in every way. You could have just pointed me towards some books but instead you have done _everything_."

"I think you'd've figured it out eventually," Jesse says with a crooked grin. "You're pretty smart, you were probably part way there already."

Hanzo shakes his head. "I was too set in my ways and refused to consider other options." He peers up at Jesse. "Thank you." 

Jesse pulls him in for a hug. It's over way too fast, and there's an awkward pause before they both part ways.

"Goodnight," Jesse says, and the last thing Hanzo sees before he closes the door is Jesse's smiling face.

 

Jesse's always had intensely vivid dreams. It has its ups and downs—the rare occasions when he gets nightmares have him waking up screaming and then wandering the halls of the Library for the rest of the night to keep the demons at bay. But when he has a good dream, it glows in him for _days_.

He's been having a lot of good dreams lately.

He wakes in the middle of the night with a smile plastered across his face and a serious problem in his pants. It's easy to close his eyes and recall the details of his dream—muscled arms, a trim waist, the most squeezable ass he ever did see, and thick thighs with a beautiful tattoo of storm clouds and dragons covering the right one. He's just thinking about taking himself in hand to finish the dream in real life when he hears a faint _creak_ from outside his apartment. Someone is out there, wandering around, and Jesse's pretty sure he knows who it is. He listens closely and hears footsteps quietly approach his front door. He's about to leap out of bed when the footsteps recede, and a wave of disappointment washes over him. But if Hanzo is wandering the corridors, unable to sleep, Jesse really should go and find him. It's not safe, especially at night.

He gets out of bed and grabs his discarded tee, pulling it over his head and messing his hair up further before he leaves his apartment. He stops just outside the door—at his feet is a small tealight candle in a glass holder. There's a line of them on either side of the corridor, leading away into the darkness. Curious, he follows the small dancing lights until he reaches a door with a thin line of light glowing from underneath. It's one of the practice rooms, the walls lined with magic dampening spells to allow practitioners freedom to explore their skills. Jesse pushes the door open and his mouth falls open.

What was previously a fairly plain room with a few chairs stacked in the corner has morphed into some kind of fairy grotto. The walls are lined with small trees, their branches curved around the ceiling to create a canopy of intertwining branches. Although it's still the height of summer in Florida, in here there is a distinctly spring-like feel to the air, with a warm breeze carrying the scent of new blossoms. A small stream of water trickles down from the roots of one of the trees, flowing into a streambed and burbling merrily across the moss-covered stones that now make up the floor. Tiny lights illuminate the room, like someone has strung fairy lights among the tree branches, and in the soft glow, Jesse can see Hanzo kneeling beside the stream.

"This is for me, isn't it?" he asks quietly, not turning around to look at Jesse.

Jesse quietly walks up beside him and sits down, his legs sprawled in front of him. "I was wondering when you'd figure it out," he says, and laughs nervously.

"Angela did tell me that the Library shapes itself around its patrons." Hanzo finally looks at him, and Jesse's relieved to see a faint smile on his face. The smile widens, and he chuckles. "I have another theory, though. Does the Library respond to your thoughts, Jesse? About particular people, perhaps?"

Jesse groans. "Yeah, it sure does. I guess I never realised how much it'd get involved until recently. I'm real sorry if it's made you uncomfortable."

Hanzo hums thoughtfully. "I felt like I was being courted by a building. It has been interesting and a little confusing. But now that I know what has been happening, it makes a lot more sense. It's quite touching, really. And this—" He waves a hand at the decor. "—this is amazing."

He's right. The Library has really pulled out all the stops with this room, and Jesse feels more than hears a murmur of approval from the very stones of the floor. Except now that he's here, Jesse doesn't quite know what to do. He's longing to recapture the moment from earlier that evening, when Hanzo was in his arms and looked like he was about to kiss him, but instead he changes the subject.

"So… why are you wanderin' around late at night? It's not safe."

Hanzo sighs. "I could not sleep. I kept thinking about all the lies I had been told. So I decided to go for a walk. As you can see, the Library kept me safe. It gave me a path of light to follow and after some detours, I ended up here."

"This is a practice room," Jesse says. "Did ya—were you thinkin' of maybe trying some magic?"

Hanzo nods once, firmly. "But I have no idea where to begin," he confesses.

"I got some books that'd help," Jesse says, "but if you're willin', I could try to show you."

"Hmm." Hanzo looks at him thoughtfully for a moment, then nods. "How do you want me?"

_In my lap, naked,_ Jesse thinks, and bites his lip. "Uh. Sit facing me. Get comfy, this could take a while."

Hanzo shuffles around until he's sitting cross legged in front of Jesse. Jesse hasn't been able to sit that way since he was a kid, and his bad knee complains every time he tries, so he keeps his legs sprawled straight in front of him, framing Hanzo's body. He tries not to think of other ways he could wrap his legs around Hanzo's body, not wanting to have to deal with an awkward boner right now.

"Now what?" Hanzo looks gorgeous in this light—his face is all soft angles, and the golden fairy lights in the trees set his face aglow in a way that makes him look almost ethereal. His eyes are dark as he watches Jesse, and before Jesse can speak, he notices Hanzo's gaze flicker down to his mouth and then back up again.

_Fuck_. Jesse takes a deep breath and tries to focus. "Take my hands," he murmurs. Hanzo's hands are slightly cold against his, and he lets a tiny thread of magic trickle down into his own hands to help warm them up. "Now, close your eyes and breathe slow and deep. We ain't gonna get you castin' any spells tonight, I just wanna see if I can get you to where you can feel your magic and recognise it."

Jesse lets his breathing match Hanzo's, the silence falling over them. Hanzo drifts, his hands going slack, and Jesse can feel the room warm. The soft breeze pulls at his and Hanzo's hair, and Jesse takes a deep breath and speaks again, slow and quiet. Jesse speaks again, slow and quiet. "Imagine how you feel when you summon the dragons. Leave them be for now, but try to feel that static in the air. That burning ozone smell. Imagine the crackle of lightning, the distant rumble of thunder." This is how Ana taught him; encouraging him to evoke the feel of his magic more than the magic itself. He watches Hanzo carefully as he speaks, and long minutes pass with nothing happening besides Jesse running out of ideas relating to lightning.

"Nothing." Hanzo sighs, his head hanging in defeat.

"Hey, don't fret," Jesse says. "Took me near a dozen tries to feel my magic inside me. Take a breather and we'll try again."

Hanzo nods and takes a deep breath. He doesn't let go of Jesse's hands. It takes him a minute to find his centre, listening to the soft breeze through the trees and the stream next to them, until he can match Jesse's soft breaths with his own. He nods at Jesse to begin.

Something different this time, perhaps. Jesse is only marginally better with lightning magic than he is with water, but even a trickle of sparks could be enough to aid Hanzo. He starts speaking again, using the same words as before, but this time he sends the barest hint of magic into his hands. Hanzo inhales softly at the crackling magic seeping into his body.

"That's just me, don't mind me. Just wanna show you what it feels like."

Hanzo nods and relaxes again, his entire body stilling as he reaches further inside himself. His left arm slowly begins to glow blue through his shirt sleeve, and soon the blue light has spread across most of his body, a faint aura sparking and crackling in the dim, quiet room.

Jesse forces himself not to interrupt the flow of words as Hanzo's arm shines brighter and brighter. Jesse is unsurprised to eventually see a faint spark of blue light from beneath Hanzo's closed eyelids. "Do you feel it now?" he asks.

"I do," Hanzo breathes. "It's… it feels _sharp_." He stops and gasps, his eyes flying open. Static electricity fills the air and the hair on Jesse's arms stands up. Hanzo's eyes are bright blue, small sparks of lightning flickering in the dim light. "It is so strong! How did I not feel this before?"

"Breathe, darlin'," Jesse says encouragingly. "Storm's passin'. Take it back into yourself. Slowly, mind."

His eyes still wide open and fixed on Jesse's, Hanzo nods, taking slow deep breaths as the magic fades from him. Eventually his eyes completely shift back to dark brown and he heaves out a sigh of relief.

"That was very intense," he says, laughing aloud as the tension fades from his body. He pitches forward, his entire body falling into Jesse's embrace and his forehead pressing against Jesse's chest. Jesse puts his arms around Hanzo's back before letting his own head droop so his cheek is leaning against Hanzo's hair.

"Not bad for your first lesson," Jesse says, feeling a little dizzy from Hanzo's warmth and the scent of his hair. "You found it real quick. Next time we'll have you castin' some spells!"

"Mmm," is Hanzo's only response.

They stay like that for several minutes, neither one of them talking or moving, just enjoying the hug. But if there was any good time to kiss Hanzo, Jesse's pretty sure it was now. As if on cue, the fairy lights dim slightly and a warm breeze, laden with the scent of rain and damp earth, floats through the room. He raises his hand and strokes Hanzo's hair, combing his fingers through the slightly tangled strands Hanzo tied up carelessly while half asleep. Hanzo lets out a quiet murmur, almost a moan, and tilts his head up to meet Jesse's.

The silence between them is heavy, laden with mutual desire. Jesse doesn't hesitate any longer and leans down to press his lips against Hanzo's.

It's over as soon as it has begun—Jesse pulls away, immediately worried he's done something wrong and that he's read this situation so, _so_ badly.

"I—" he starts, but Hanzo interrupts him.

"Why did you stop?" he asks, sliding a hand up the back of Jesse's neck and caressing his hair.

Jesse blinks owlishly at him. "Because I'm a goddamn idiot," he murmurs, and kisses him again. His confidence bolstered by Hanzo's reciprocation, he leans into it, revelling in the feel of Hanzo's soft lips against his. Their beards scrape together in a way that makes Jesse want to laugh, and he tilts his head to get a better angle. Hanzo whimpers softly and tightens his grip on Jesse's hair, and Jesse can't help but let out a similar noise when the tip of Hanzo's tongue slides along the seam of his lips and coaxes them to part.

Hanzo tastes of mint and a hint of ozone, almost sharp on Jesse's tongue as they slide together, both of them moaning quietly as they kiss for several long, blissful minutes in the grotto. Hanzo nudges Jesse until he falls onto his back and then straddles him, their hips grinding together in a shock of pleasure as Hanzo leans over to kiss him again, harder this time. Jesse grunts, his eyes rolling back in his head at how fucking _good_ it feels. He tugs the tie free of Hanzo's hair and grins as his thick black hair spills out. It falls over Jesse's face in a waterfall of tangles and he laughs as it tickles his nose while they kiss.

"If you want my hair out, perhaps we should change places," Hanzo says, pulling away briefly and smiling down at Jesse.

"Nah, I'm good right here," he replies, smiling back at him. "C'mere, I ain't done with you yet." Hanzo laughs aloud as Jesse pulls him back down for more kisses, and they both groan loudly when Hanzo brings his teeth into play, tugging at Jesse's bottom lip. Jesse's hands find their way down Hanzo's back and to his ass, firm and round and just as squeezable as Jesse imagined.

Things are just getting really good—Jesse can feel Hanzo's arousal pressing insistently against his own, and he's _really_ getting into their hips rocking together like this—when the room shudders and goes dark. Jesse's back thumps down onto bare floorboards, the moss-covered stones abruptly vanishing from beneath them.

"What happened?" Hanzo asks, sitting up. The darkness doesn't last long; a single torch lights up by the door, and Jesse groans at the sight of the now-empty practice room with its plain stone walls and dusty wooden floor.

"Fuck… Okay, I did get warned about this, but I forgot."

"What?" Hanzo asks, climbing to his feet. He looks gorgeously dishevelled in the dim light with his hair sticking out in all directions, and Jesse sits up, rubbing his face.

"The Library don't like people gettin' busy in rooms not designed for that particular purpose," he says. 

Hanzo looks down at him, a look of confusion covering his face, and then bursts out laughing. "Did we just get a slap on the wrist from a _chaperone_?" he forces out.

"Yeah, pretty much," Jesse says, and clambers to his feet. "So, uh." He scratches his head, unsure of where to go from here. Does he invite Hanzo back to his room? Call it a night? 

"Perhaps we should call it a night," Hanzo says, covering a yawn with his hand. "We can always pick this up again another time."

"Soon, I hope," Jesse mutters, and Hanzo chokes back a laugh. They walk in a companionable silence back to Hanzo's room, and part for the night after a fairly chaste kiss in the open doorway.

"G'night," Jesse murmurs, and Hanzo lets his hand linger on Jesse's cheek for a moment before bidding him goodnight and closing the door.

 

Hanzo leans against the inside of the bedroom door and fails completely at keeping a silly grin off his face. He feels like a teenager again, giddy with the excitement of a first kiss, and he falls face first onto the soft, inviting bed. The exuberance he feels at his first successful attempt at magic use only adds to his good mood, and he spends several long minutes reaching inside himself again to brush his mind against the well of power that he can't believe he never felt before. It's easier now; he knows what to look for, and it doesn't take long to feel the bright storm inside of himself.

Not wanting to create a lightning storm in his bedroom, he does no more than that, and eventually strips down to his underwear to go back to bed.

His dreams are chaotic. Looming figures threaten him, his uncle's piercing eyes the only discernible feature. Over and over again Masato laughs as Genji dies at Hanzo's hand. His dragons desert him, leaving him completely alone and empty inside. Hashimoto breaks Tomo's neck and taunts Hanzo with his broken body. Through it all, he can hear a small boy sobbing quietly, trying not to be heard.

Hanzo wakes up drenched in sweat and gasping for breath. He has to tell himself over and over that he's safe here, that even if the clan assassins know where he is, they can't possibly get through the wards. The room seems to breathe, in and out, and Hanzo finds himself trying to match his own panicked breathing to the undulations emanating from the very walls and floor. He's safe, his brother is safe, it's going to be okay.

Long minutes pass before he is calm again, and he reaches inside himself to that bright centre where his magic lies. It soothes him, grounds him, and after a short time he finds himself able to sleep again.

This time, the dreams are far more pleasant. He's back in the grotto, the warm wind brushing past him, and the running water almost musical. Jesse's underneath him, and this time the Library doesn't interrupt them. The next time he wakes, it's morning, and he's got a foolish grin on his face that he doesn't think anything could shift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HOPE YOU LIKED THE SMOOCHING. <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo reconciles with his brother and begins his training.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the rating has gone up! :o
> 
> The art part way through this chapter was commissioned from the amazingly talented mctiddiezo. :D

"Genji and I wish to leave," Yuki announces at breakfast. They're sitting at a small table in Jesse's apartment, located a few floors up. It's a comfortable place, a small kitchenette tucked into the corner of a decent-sized living room with a table and a couch nestled among over a dozen bookshelves, all overflowing with books. The curtains on the floor-to-ceiling windows next to the table are wide open, and Hanzo has already spent some time admiring the view: a stark, red desert under a bright blue sky. New Mexico, he assumes, and wonders if the Library can summon a view of any location.

"But it's not safe!" Hanzo says. "You know this, you know the clan is hunting us!"

Yuki sighs. "I know. Genji knows. And perhaps it is time for us to face them instead of running away."

Hanzo drops his fork and it clatters loudly against his plate. "We barely escaped with our lives when they last found us."

"I believe we are better armed, now. Both Genji and I are capable of a lot more than you have seen," Yuki says with a grin. "And I think your boyfriend would be only too happy to help out." 

Her voice is mocking, and Hanzo feels a pang of nostalgia—it's been years since Genji teased him like this, and he has to remind himself that although the voice is Genji's and it is coming from his brother's mouth, this still isn't his brother.

Hanzo glances at Jesse, wondering if he will be taken aback by the _boyfriend_ comment, but sees him nod and smile in agreement. When they met up that morning, Jesse had stammered an awkward greeting before Hanzo broke the ice by pulling him down into a good morning kiss. That had almost threatened to become a full-blown makeout session in the corridor outside Hanzo's room before they both remembered themselves. 

"Yeah, for sure," Jesse says. "I'm not letting you face them alone." He takes Hanzo's hand, his grip warm and sure, and Hanzo can't help but smile.

"Good!" Yuki says. "And I'm sure that we can train Hanzo up nicely over the next few days. He'll be throwing lightning bolts around like nobody's business."

Surprised, Hanzo blinks and stares at her. "So quickly?" he asks. His magic responds to his excitement, filling him with an electric surge, demanding to be released and known.

"You've been doing a lot of it already," she points out. "It's like summoning your dragons, only aiming it more precisely. In the meantime, though, I want to explore this place a bit! And Genji wants to talk to you. Alone." She waves her hand and Genji’s form shimmers for a moment before there's a flash of light and then there are two figures where once there was only one.

Back in the body of a young woman, her black hair styled in a pixie cut and her eyes flashing bright blue, Yuki sags against the table as her legs almost give out from under her. "I'm trusting you," she says to Hanzo, pointing her finger at him. 

He glances away, his face reddening—she's only wearing the skimpiest of undergarments, the same as she'd been wearing that night back in Hanamura—and Genji curses, leaping up from the table and pulling his t-shirt off to cover her.

"Well," Jesse says, staring resolutely at the ceiling, "if you want to head out for a walk, that's up to you. But if you think there's assassins about, maybe you should stay inside the Library where it's safe—safer."

This is how Hanzo finds himself, half an hour later, ambling through the wider, friendlier corridors of the Library with Genji at his side. Yuki had vanished into the stacks with Jesse's shouted warnings about not getting into trouble echoing after her, and Hanzo is relieved to finally have his brother to himself.

He's about to ask what else Genji can tell him about magic, but before he can even phrase the question in his mind, Genji speaks:

"So. You've found yourself a boyfriend."

Hanzo grits his teeth. "If you are going to mock—"

"No!" Genji interrupts. His voice softens immediately. "No. I'm happy for you. I haven't seen you happy since we were children." He glances over at Hanzo, who has lowered his head to try to hide his blush. "You seem happy."

Hanzo laughs softly. "I had forgotten what it felt like to be happy."

"I, um." Genji clears his throat and Hanzo glances at him, his eyebrows raised in question. Genji takes a deep breath and continues. "I don't remember you ever having a romantic interest in anyone, brother. You dated people, but you never seemed to like any of them much."

Hanzo looks away and bites his lip. He starts to speak, but pauses, unsure if he should tell Genji such a personal story. It has been so long since they were able to share such things. But Genji is looking at him so sincerely, for once really listening to him, and he finds that he wants to share this with his brother. "There was one," he says. "His name was Haruki. I met him at university."

"I don't remember—"

"Of course you do not remember him," Hanzo interjects. "How do you think Father would have reacted to me dating a man whose mother was a cleaner and whose father had left before he was born? He did not even know I preferred men."

Genji's brow crinkles. "But you've dated women. You had at least two girlfriends in high school that I knew of."

"Yes," Hanzo says, "and that was by choice. I have enjoyed dating both men and women. But as I got older, I found that men caught my eye more often than women. Not that it mattered—I knew I would have to marry politically to bolster our family's power, so my feelings were irrelevant." He clears his throat uncomfortably, not used to discussing his sexual preferences with _anyone_ , let alone his brother.

"Oh," Genji says quietly. They walk in silence for a minute or so, before arriving at a room Hanzo remembers from one of his earlier visits to the Library. Unlike most of the other rooms, this one has windows—wide, tall panes of glass that open up onto a fairytale vista of rolling hills and bright blue sky. He's not sure where it is—it may even be an illusion—but it's beautiful. Genji looks awed as they enter and goes up to the window to peer out as Hanzo makes himself comfortable on one of the couches nearby.

"So what happened with Haruki?" Genji prompts as he admires the view.

"It was all in secret," Hanzo says. Genji glances at him and joins him, folding his legs underneath him as he sits down. "We thought we were in love. But then I was called into father's office one night and told I would be expected to marry soon. He provided me with a list of eligible women. I could tell he was suspicious. So I ended it with Haruki." He takes a deep breath. It has been many years since that night when he told Haruki they could no longer be together, and he's surprised to find that the memories are still painful. Hanzo had genuinely loved Haruki, and it had broken his heart to end their relationship.

"Hanzo," Genji says, reaching over and putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. Hanzo turns to look at his brother, his green hair shining in the bright sunbeams coming through the window. "I'm sorry."

Hanzo looks down. "As am I," he replies. He exhales loudly and pushes aside his usual instinct to hide his feelings from his brother. Their inability to communicate is what had led to all of this—if Genji had trusted his older brother and told Hanzo about Yuki, the whole situation would have likely turned out completely different. 

Hanzo hates to think that he could have caused Genji the same pain he had suffered when he left Haruki.

"Hanzo—"

"I'm sorry," Hanzo interrupts, his head in his hands. "This is—this is all my fault. We should have been working together against our uncle. As _brothers_. Imagine how things might have been if we had co-operated. If I had not pushed you away and seen you as a hindrance, blocking my path to power. We could have been running the clan as we saw fit, not fleeing to the other side of the world with our tails between our legs."

Genji snorts. "I was not much better than you," he confesses. "There were times when I deliberately set out to make you angry just so I would have an excuse to yell at you."

"What a pair we make," Hanzo muses.

"But anyway," Genji continues, "I asked you about Jesse! Are you two—" He makes a vulgar gesture, and Hanzo grimaces.

"None of your concern," he mutters.

"So that's a no. Is this because I interrupted you last night?" Genji asks. "If so, I'm glad I didn't give you a few more minutes." He shudders theatrically, and Hanzo punches him in the shoulder, unable to hold back a laugh. 

It's just like old times and as they bicker and laugh like the brothers they are, Hanzo feels as though a great weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

 

Hanzo's training begins that very afternoon. He sits down cross-legged on the hard floor of the practice room and takes a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. Genji sits opposite him, their hands joined, and waits patiently for Hanzo to collect himself.

It's easier than before to touch his magic. It seems that after he found it the first time, the floodgates opened, and he only needs a few seconds to reach inside himself and find it again. Blue lightning crackles up and down his arm as Kaminari and Inazuma emerge to aid him, and through his closed eyes he can see the bright green light of Genji's dragon joining in.

He hears a muffled _wow_ from the other side of the room where Yuki is observing, and concentrates on blocking out all external distractions. Genji's grip on his hands tightens, murmuring instructions to Hanzo under his breath, and before Hanzo can stop it, a strong surge of magic rushes through him and there's a loud _crack._ A bolt of lightning earths itself in the floor a few feet to Hanzo's left in a bright blue flash. Hanzo's ears ring and he can feel the static crackling in the air.

"Nice!" Genji congratulates him, and Hanzo glances over to see a smoking hole in the floor.

"Whoops," he says, but the room gives a slight shudder and the hole vanishes. 

"This place is a lot better than where I learned," Genji muses. "There are holes all over a particular abandoned building in the Hanamura docks."

"There were almost a few on me as well," Yuki mutters. "Okay, look, you two seem to have it in hand. I'm going for a walk. This morning I found a lovely little room filled with books about cat magic, of all things, and I'm going to see if I can find it again." 

"Yuki!" Genji calls as she heads towards the door. She pauses and turns back. "Thank you," he says softly.

She shrugs. "It's okay. You do what you need to do." She glances at Hanzo before leaving, and he gives her a gentle smile and a nod of thanks. Surprised, she returns it before taking her leave. When he looks back at Genji, his brother is smiling.

 

That evening, Jesse drives Hanzo back to the motel so he can check out and collect his and Genji's belongings. Jesse doesn't know what Hanzo and his brother talked about that day while they were wandering the halls, but he seems happier and more at ease than Jesse's ever seen him. When they get back to the truck and Hanzo has tossed the bags in the back, Jesse uses the cover of darkness to pull Hanzo in for a kiss. Hanzo comes willingly, pressing his entire body against Jesse's from chest to toe as he tilts his head up. It's a kiss full of promise, of _later_ , and Hanzo wraps his arms around Jesse's lower back to tug him even closer. Their hips grind together just a little, enough to make Jesse see stars and want to test out how spacious the front of his truck is, and they part with a soft moan.

"Didya wanna come back to my place tonight?" Jesse asks breathlessly.

"Hmm," Hanzo considers, running a finger down Jesse's face. "Perhaps. What's in it for me?"

"Well," Jesse begins, and almost stutters to a stop when Hanzo leans in to kiss his neck. "A comfy bed. Someone to keep you warm. Maybe some more kissing." He catches Hanzo's mouth again with his own, sliding his tongue between Hanzo's lips and swallowing a groan.

"You make a very convincing argument," Hanzo says, inhaling sharply as Jesse pushes a thigh between his legs. "Let's—let's get back, hmm?"

Jesse groans, reluctant to part from Hanzo. But this is a shitty motel parking lot, and they're probably only a minute or so away from having a floodlight trained on them by a pissed-off motel clerk, so he disentangles himself from Hanzo and climbs back in the truck.

It's only a short drive, but Hanzo doesn't make it easier by leaning in and kissing Jesse's neck again while his hand rubs up and down Jesse's thigh. Jesse breathes deeply and concentrates on the road, and has never been so relieved to see an abandoned Blockbuster in his life.

It's late and the Library has been closed for a couple of hours, but Jesse manages not to push Hanzo up against his desk in the atrium and strip him naked. Aside from the Library's blatant dislike of any shenanigans taking place outside of designated areas, Gabe has a bad habit of turning up when he's most unwelcome. Jesse really doesn't want to give the wraith something to hold over his head for the foreseeable future. He all but drags Hanzo upstairs to his rooms and once they're safely ensconced in the bedroom, he gets to work on Hanzo's clothes.

"Been wanting this for _ages_ ," Jesse murmurs as he tugs Hanzo's t-shirt up over his head before kissing him again. His upper body looks just as amazing as Jesse had imagined, with those wide shoulders and sculpted pecs, the tattoo just touching the left one. Hanzo murmurs something incomprehensible against Jesse's mouth, fumbling with the buttons on Jesse's shirt. He seems reluctant to stop the kiss, and Jesse's all too happy to part his lips and let Hanzo's questing tongue slide between them. 

"Get on the bed," Hanzo growls as he slides Jesse's shirt off and runs his hands down his back. 

"Yessir!" Jesse backs up and pulls Hanzo with him until the backs of his knees hit the bed. He collapses backwards and Hanzo comes with him, straddling Jesse's thighs and grinding down against him.

Jesse gasps like all the air has been punched out of him. Hanzo stares down at him, his eyes dark and intense as he rubs his hard cock up against Jesse's. Even through the layers of denim and cotton Jesse can feel the heat, and he desperately grabs Hanzo's ass to pull him down harder.

"I want… more than just… _this._ " Hanzo grunts, but he doesn't stop moving his hips.

"Me too, I just… god, c'mere, please." Jesse lifts his knees, tipping Hanzo forward until they're pressed together chest to chest.

Hanzo groans and kisses him, hard and fast, their hips shifting and moving together in a delicious rhythm. Jesse can't get any words out; his cock is straining in his pants, the head slipping through the wet precome staining his underwear. Heat spreads through his body, his chest flushing red and beads of sweat forming on his temples. He's going to come in his pants, like a goddamn teenager, just from having Hanzo Shimada rutting on top of him.

It doesn't look like Hanzo is doing any better than him. He pants into Jesse's mouth, a whine escaping him as he slides a hand down Jesse's side and onto his thigh. Jesse responds instinctively to the pressure of Hanzo's hand and wraps his legs around Hanzo's hips. They grunt in unison as the angle becomes even better. Jesse can feel his balls starting to tighten up, waves of lust building up and coursing through him.

"Can we at least get our pants open?" Hanzo gasps, pulling away from their kiss for a brief moment.

Jesse doesn't have the brainpower to reply, but he pushes his hand between their bodies to fumble with their pants. His stupid belt buckle is so fucking _big_ and _awkward_ and Jesse's wishing he'd forgone it that night because he can't get the damned thing off. Eventually Hanzo growls and reaches between them as well, helping Jesse get the buckle undone and their jeans open.

Jesse plunges his hand into Hanzo's underwear, grasps a handful of thick cock and strokes. Hanzo curses, words dissolving into a throaty groan. His hand wet from precome, Jesse doesn't let up, grinning as Hanzo clumsily tugs Jesse's boxers down.

Finally— _finally!—_ it's just skin against skin; the hot length of Hanzo's cock lies against Jesse's and he almost comes on the spot. Hanzo bends to kiss him again, his breathing harsh and loud as he thrusts his hips. Jesse pushes a hand down the back of Hanzo's pants and squeezes his ass, and he feels more than hears Hanzo's gasp as he slips a finger between his cheeks and strokes over his hole.

"Jesse, I—" Hanzo starts, but fails to finish as he tenses up, coming in warm splashes across Jesse's chest and stomach. 

"Goddamn," Jesse breathes, admiring Hanzo's gorgeous face, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging open as he gasps for breath.

"I needed that," Hanzo murmurs, grinning down at Jesse.

"Well, that's good, sweetpea, but can you—" He shifts his hips, trying to get a bit of pressure against his cock, but Hanzo just shifts so he's sitting up.

"Hey, now..." Jesse reaches for Hanzo to pull him back in close.

"Don't move," Hanzo orders, and a jolt of lust pierces Jesse as Hanzo tosses his glasses aside. He slides down Jesse's body until he's kneeling on the floor beside the bed, Jesse's legs slung over his shoulders. Hanzo locks eyes with him before opening his mouth and taking most of Jesse's dick in. Jesse does his best to hold his hips still as he watches that gorgeous mouth swallow him whole.

"Pull my hair," Hanzo demands, lifting off for a moment, and Jesse can't resist that. He reaches down and slides his right hand into the tangle of Hanzo's hair, no longer neatly held back in a hair tie, but with flyaway strands everywhere. He tugs slightly and Hanzo moans, the vibrations sending a jolt through his cock.

He's not going to last. He's perilously close already from rutting against Hanzo, and as he feels his cock slide in and out of that wet, velvety mouth, Jesse bites his lip so hard he almost breaks the skin. Hanzo's _really_ good at this, wrapping a hand around the base of the shaft and sucking on the head until Jesse sees stars before diving right down again until almost all of Jesse's dick is in his mouth. 

"Jesus Christ," Jesse says, his voice cracking as Hanzo's wicked tongue slides all over his cock, up and down the shaft and caressing the head almost gently, lapping up the precome spilling from the slit. Thick strands of hair fall out of the hair tie as Jesse pulls, and eventually he gives up and just pulls the tie out, letting the hair fall over Hanzo's face.

Jesse's close, so close, and he's trying hard not to buck his hips and fuck Hanzo's throat, when Hanzo raises his head slightly, looking straight up at Jesse, and _winks_. Jesse lets out a loud groan as he comes down Hanzo's throat in long spurts, his toes curling inside his socks and his hand tightening in Hanzo's hair until it must be painful. Hanzo swallows quickly but can't get it all, and Jesse bites his lip to see him pull up and wipe come off his face. Thick strands of it are in his beard, and Jesse passes him his shirt to wipe himself clean, knowing just how hard it is to wash come out of your facial hair.

"That was—" Jesse begins, but trails off, unable to come up with words. Instead, he pulls Hanzo back up on the bed with him, holding him close and nuzzling his hair.

"Good, I hope?" Hanzo asks, his voice muffled against Jesse's chest. "Although next time, I would prefer it if we removed all our clothes."

"Mmm," Jesse agrees. "Wanna stay the night?"

"You've convinced me," Hanzo says, amusement filling his voice, and Jesse grins.

 

Jesse wakes in the morning feeling more refreshed than he has in some time. His sleep was blissfully dreamless, and he stretches and yawns, wondering if he can go back to sleep for a bit longer. He wishes he had the day off, and wonders if he can call in sick—he's already mentally making plans with Hanzo involving his bed and very little else. 

Speaking of—he rolls over and sees that Hanzo is already awake and looks like he has been for some time. He's sitting up in bed, still shirtless, with his hair messy from sleep and his glasses perched low on his nose as he reads one of Jesse's books. He recognises it as one of the instruction manuals on lightning magic he'd acquired the very day Hanzo showed up at the Library. They'd been sitting neglected on one of the bookshelves in the living room, forgotten until now. Hanzo must have got up a little while earlier and perused Jesse's books.

"Good read?" Jesse asks, his jaw cracking wide with another yawn. He slides closer to Hanzo, slinging his arm low around his waist and nudging his head against Hanzo's right arm until he lifts it up and lets Jesse snuggle into his side.

"Very much so," Hanzo says, his hand coming up to tousle Jesse's hair as he continues reading. "This will be useful, I think. Look." He raises his left hand and concentrates for a moment, and Jesse feels the familiar static in the air mere seconds before a tiny burst of lightning crackles and dances across Hanzo's knuckles. It fades quickly, and Hanzo looks down at him with a wide grin on his face.

"Damn, darlin'," Jesse says. "That's some nice progress. Good control, too." He nuzzles closer, kissing Hanzo's stomach, and Hanzo lets out a stifled giggle.

"You ain't ticklish, are you?" Jesse asks.

"Not even slightly," Hanzo says with a straight face, the lie clear in the way that the muscles of his abdomen twitch with every kiss Jesse places there.

Things quickly devolve into a wrestling match, with Hanzo's glasses flung who-knows-where and the book falling to the floor with a heavy _thud_. Despite the disadvantage of missing an arm, Jesse ends up on top, pinning Hanzo's wrists to the bed as they laugh so hard they end up gasping for breath. Hanzo isn't giving up so easily, and although he's weakened by laughter and can't get the leverage he needs with his prosthetic legs currently detached, he wriggles underneath Jesse in a bid to escape. This turns interesting when they both realise simultaneously that the other is naked and they're now pressed together in a very intimate way, and Hanzo's eyes darken as he licks his lips and gazes up at Jesse.

The invitation is clear. Jesse leans in and places a soft kiss against Hanzo's lips. He's rewarded with a quiet hum and Hanzo wrapping his arms around Jesse's waist, pulling him down so they're pressed together from chest to knee. They kiss again, deeper this time, eyes closing as their tongues embrace. A thrill courses through Jesse's body and he feels giddy, the feeling only intensifying when he shifts his hips and realises that Hanzo's completely hard.

"You want to—" he starts.

"Mmm," Hanzo interrupts him with another kiss. "Like this," he murmurs. "Just—like this." He thrusts his hips up against Jesse, sliding their cocks together in the heat between their bodies, and they both let out a moan. Their mouths meet in a heated kiss, and they spend long minutes simply enjoying the closeness as their tongues slide together and their hips move in tandem. Jesse doesn't ever want to stop kissing Hanzo, feeling the scrape of his beard, the slick touch of his tongue, the sharp nip of his teeth, and from the sounds Hanzo is making, he's not alone.

It's over very quickly, and Jesse would feel embarrassed about how quickly he comes if it wasn't for the fact that Hanzo follows him mere seconds later. They both lie there panting for a moment, foreheads and noses pressed together as they share breath. Eventually the mess between them starts to feel gross, and they peel themselves apart with a grimace.

"Shower?" Hanzo inquires as he wipes his chest down with the tissues Jesse passes him.

"Definitely," Jesse agrees. He glances at Hanzo's prosthetic legs beside the bed; his shower isn't exactly set up for accessibility and he considers fetching a stool from the kitchen. Hanzo notices him looking and gives him a half smile.

"They're very advanced. Water won't damage them."

"Oh, good!" Jesse says, relieved. "My arm ain't that fancy." He leaves it by the side of the bed as they make their way into his adjoining bathroom, where they linger for significantly longer than Jesse had initially planned.

 

By the time they manage to leave the bathroom, it's mid-morning. Hanzo's hair is still damp and stringy when he and Jesse walk hand-in-hand into the kitchen, where Genji and Yuki are waiting for them.

" _Someone_ had a good night," Genji observes, smirking at Hanzo as he prepares his tea. 

Hanzo ignores him and stares at the kettle as it boils. He finally sits down at the table with his cup of tea, and Genji slides into the chair opposite, still grinning.

"C'mon now," Jesse says, pouring coffee while looking a little embarrassed. "We're all adults here."

"Sure," Genji says, still smirking. 

Hanzo kicks him under the table, and he yelps. Hanzo's prosthetic legs are _solid_. He's secretly pleased; the ribbing Genji is giving him is a sure sign of his approval of Jesse. Were it otherwise, he'd be getting dark glares from across the table. Jesse sits down next to him and, under the table, takes his hand. Hanzo buries his face in his cup of tea to hide the blush.

 

His training picks up again as soon as breakfast is over. Jesse bids him a good day by pulling him in for a long, drawn-out kiss against the bedroom door before Genji knocks loudly, informing them that he does not have all day and that they need to save it for later. They part with a chuckle, and Hanzo spends a minute making sure he is presentable before heading back out with his brother. 

By the evening he's made more progress, impressing Jesse with how far he's come in such a short period of time. His control is improving exponentially, and Hanzo demonstrates by sending out a delicate thread of magic to light a bulb on the far side of the room which Jesse has been meaning to replace for weeks. 

"Damn," Jesse breathes, his eyes wide. "Took me _months_ of practice 'fore I could do something like that. I was still throwing fireballs when I was meant to be lighting matches."

"This is—exhilarating," Hanzo confesses. He turns to face Jesse, leaning against the wall of his living room. It's dangerous to be practicing magic in these close quarters, but Hanzo is feeling pretty confident.

"Yeah?" Jesse says with a grin, coming to Hanzo and wrapping his arms around his waist. He leans in and nuzzles Hanzo's neck, prompting a laugh from him.

"I think—" Hanzo begins, and stops when Jesse kisses his neck, soft lips and rough beard tickling a little and making him inhale sharply as a frisson of desire pierces him.

"Yeah?" Jesse repeats, pulling him closer. 

Hanzo takes a deep breath and forgets what he was about to say. "I think we should take this to the bedroom," he says instead, pulling Jesse down for a proper kiss.

"We could," Jesse murmurs between kisses, "but there's a perfectly good couch right here." He walks Hanzo backwards until his knees hit the aforementioned piece of furniture, and Hanzo grins as he lets Jesse push him down. His hands land unerringly on Jesse's hips as Jesse straddles him, pushing Hanzo deep down into the cushions and tilting his head back for a kiss. Hanzo whimpers as Jesse grinds down into him, his tongue sliding into Hanzo's mouth. He feels completely surrounded, with Jesse above him, around him, his hair falling into Hanzo's face and tickling his nose as they kiss deeply.

"Sorry, I'm probably squashin' you," Jesse murmurs, breaking the kiss briefly. Hanzo shakes his head and pulls Jesse harder against his body, his head falling back and a groan escaping his lungs.

"Stay," he gasps, and Jesse nods, leaning back in and nuzzling Hanzo's neck. They both let out a muffled grunt as their hips slide together, and Jesse reaches down between them to cup Hanzo's dick through his jeans. His thumb slowly rubs up and down the rapidly hardening length and Hanzo's entire body jerks.

"Don't move," Jesse whispers in his ear, and Hanzo is suddenly left feeling cold and alone as Jesse clambers off him and vanishes into the bedroom. He's about to ignore Jesse's command and follow him when he appears again and is back at Hanzo's side within moments. A wicked grin covers his face as he drops a few condoms and a half empty bottle of lube on the side table.

"A bit presumptuous, don't you think?" Hanzo says, but he sits back, legs spread and arms stretched across the back of the couch. "How do you want to do this?"

Jesse grins even wider and steps closer so he's between Hanzo's thighs. "I got some ideas," he admits, and starts unbuckling his belt. 

Hanzo sits up and bats his hands away. "My job," he purrs, and he hears Jesse give a strangled gasp as he pulls open the ridiculous buckle—honestly, he can't believe he's about to have sex with a man whose belt buckle says BAMF—and gets to work on the button and zip. He can't resist stroking Jesse's cock through the denim, tracing its shape with his thumb and finger, and Jesse steadies himself on Hanzo's shoulders as his thighs start to tremble.

"Don't—don't tease me," he stutters, breathless, and Hanzo grins up at him as he slowly pulls the zipper down and pushes Jesse's jeans down over his hips. He's so close to his goal now, and he grabs Jesse's ass and pulls him right up close so he can mouth at the soft red fabric of his underwear. He can almost taste Jesse's cock underneath, and as he laps at the shape of him, leaving a large wet mark, he's rewarded with the sudden salty taste of precome. He digs his tongue in over the head of Jesse's dick, relishing the bitten-off moans coming from above him.

"Han," Jesse breathes, his hips rocking. "You tryin' to make me beg?"

"Is it working?" Hanzo asks, looking up at Jesse. He wipes his mouth, dragging excess saliva from his chin and beard, and licks his lips.

"I'll do whatever you want if it gets your mouth on my dick," Jesse says, his voice low and rough. He strokes a finger down Hanzo's cheek before cupping the back of his head, loosening his hair in its tie. Hanzo finally acquiesces, hooking his thumbs into the waistband and tugging Jesse's underwear down to expose his cock and balls. He's rock hard, beads of precome slipping out of the slit at the head, and Hanzo dives back in greedily to lick them up. Jesse's more than a mouthful, and Hanzo grasps the shaft in one hand as he takes the head into his mouth and sucks, sliding his tongue around the crown and digging into the slit.

The cursing from above him is intensely gratifying, as is the sudden tug of Jesse's hand in his hair. His metal hand lands on Hanzo's shoulder as Jesse steadies himself, his hips rocking slightly.

Almost purring, Hanzo starts sliding his mouth up and down over Jesse's cock, delighting in the scratch of Jesse’s fingers on his scalp and the tug of his hair as Jesse tries to control his movements. His hips stutter and his grip tightens, and Hanzo slides his hand down further to cup his balls as he takes Jesse in as far as he can.

"Han, darlin', I'm—I'm close," Jesse forces out, and Hanzo pulls away, not wanting Jesse to finish yet. He peers up at his lover, knowing that his face is a mess, wet with precome and saliva. He licks his lips, and Jesse groans.

"Come here," Hanzo growls, dragging Jesse down onto his lap again. Jesse almost trips and falls over his jeans, kicking them and his underwear off before straddling Hanzo's thighs. 

"Too many clothes," Jesse says, sounding frustrated as he unbuttons Hanzo's shirt and pushes it open. Hanzo lets him, keeping one hand on Jesse's cock and stroking him firmly while sliding the other into his hair and pulling him in for a kiss. It's messy and sloppy and _amazing_ , and Hanzo moans when Jesse's hand pops open the button of his jeans and dives inside to stroke his dick. He's suddenly aware of how hard he is, how desperate he's become just from having Jesse's cock in his mouth, and he shifts his hips in frustration as Jesse pushes his jeans and underwear down to free his cock.

"Yeah?" Jesse asks, settling back down and shifting his hips so their cocks are pressed together. Hanzo nods, panting, and blindly reaches for the lube on the side table. Jesse's all too happy to move again, shifting his weight forward so Hanzo can press a slicked-up finger between his ass cheeks and over the rim of his hole.

"You are sure?" Hanzo asks, pausing when Jesse tenses up slightly.

"I'm sure," Jesse confirms, a wide smile plastered across his face. "I even showered earlier, just in case." 

Hanzo's breath stutters, suddenly struck by the mental image of Jesse in the shower with soapy hands cleaning himself on the off-chance that they might have sex today. He moves with more confidence, sliding a finger inside him as they kiss and rock together. Jesse moans and bucks his hips as Hanzo stretches him, his cock dripping precome all over Hanzo's belly. 

"Ready," Jesse gasps, sitting up and batting Hanzo's hand away from his dick. Hanzo nods, unable to speak with words, and bites his lip as Jesse rolls a condom over him and pushes himself up onto his knees.

It's a slow process; Jesse lowering himself down onto Hanzo's dick as Hanzo holds himself firmly. Jesse's ass is so tight, so _hot_ , and it takes a lot of effort not to just grab Jesse’s hips and slam up into him. Eventually Hanzo is buried balls-deep, and they both take a moment, gazes locked and breathing in sync as Jesse got used to the stretch.

It's not a position Hanzo is used to being in. He's always been versatile when it comes to sex, happy to give or take depending on his partner's preferences. But he doesn't recall ever having a man spread across his thighs like this, and the lack of control he has over the situation is a little disconcerting. Even more so when Jesse starts to rock back and forth on his cock, relishing the slow slide in and out, and Hanzo can't find the leverage he needs to thrust up into him. He settles for stroking Jesse's back, his ass, up his sides and across his chest as Jesse moans and buries his face in Hanzo's neck.

The fire slowly rises in Hanzo's belly as Jesse fucks himself on his cock. It's intense, squeezing him in the best way, and Hanzo's eyes roll back in his head as he yanks Jesse down hard against him. Jesse grunts and moves faster, his dick dragging trails of precome all over Hanzo's torso, and Hanzo remembers his manners enough to help Jesse out with a hand around his cock. 

Hanzo feels dizzy, shaking, sweat beading on his brow, and as he pulls Jesse down harder, his balls aching with the need to come, lightning starts to build behind his eyes. He glances up and sees that Jesse's eyes are deep, dark red, and they both breathe out plumes of heat and static before their mouths meet in a shockingly intense kiss. 

Jesse gasps and comes suddenly, his ass clenching tight around Hanzo's dick, and Hanzo lets out a shout as he comes, his orgasm accompanied by a spark of lightning that ricochets through his body and earths itself through his feet. 

"Are—are you okay?" Hanzo asks, his voice rough.

"Goddamn, I've never had that happen before." Jesse tilts his head up and breathes out again, another heated gust of wind filling the air above him. Hanzo chuckles; all the lightning that had built up inside him seems to have vanished with his orgasm, and he's just relieved that he hasn't electrocuted Jesse.

"We should clean up," Hanzo says, grimacing as he slides his dick out of Jesse. His chest and stomach are wet and sticky, but Jesse collapses against him and nuzzles his ear.

"Just take a moment," he murmurs, and Hanzo smiles, sliding an arm around Jesse's waist and pulling him close.

 

Several days pass in a haze of bliss. Hanzo spends his days with his brother, honing his gifts. They find a target range deep in the bowels of the Library, and Hanzo is delighted to be able to practice with his bow again. He discovers that it's quite easy to leash the lightning magic to his arrows, and several targets are destroyed in a clap of thunder before he manages to tone it down to something a little less destructive. His dragons are filled with joy at his increased power and are all too happy to add their power to the lightning that Hanzo is hurling around with ever increasing deadly accuracy.

Nights are spent with Jesse—not nearly enough of it spent sleeping—and Hanzo is pretty sure he's falling in love. He doesn't think about what will happen when he and Genji eventually leave, and concentrates instead on how incredible Jesse feels around him, in him, at his side, surrounding him so completely in every way that he feels safer and more content than he ever has in his life.

Hanzo wakes one morning to find Jesse already gone. He's not concerned; Jesse had mentioned the previous evening that he was going to be up early to head out and pick up some books. Hanzo offered to come with him, but Jesse refused, making the excuse that this particular contact was reclusive and distrustful. He promised to take Hanzo out for lunch when he got back, though. 

He runs his hand over a pair of Jesse's sweatpants that had been pulled off this morning in exchange for real clothes. Hanzo can't believe he already misses Jesse—gone less than two hours and he is already moping. He sighs and pulls the sweatpants on and makes his way into the living room.

A shadowy figure is lurking by the door and Hanzo blinks, somewhat taken aback. He's seen the smoke demon floating around on occasion, but this is the first time he's encountered him directly since he first started frequenting the Library. He still feels a little bad about unleashing his dragons on Gabe the first time they met, but the creature doesn’t seem to have suffered any long-term ill effects.

“Can I help you?” Hanzo asks. Gabe doesn’t reply, but his smoky gaze follows Hanzo as he puts the kettle on to make tea.

 _so you and jesse are…_ Gabe finally begins as Hanzo pours the hot water into a mug.

Hanzo stares at him, leaving the statement hanging as he waits for his tea to steep. Eventually he nods. “Not that it is any of your business.” He places his tea on a side table and settles on the couch.

Gabe shifts around, his movements screaming discomfort. Eventually the dark cloud of smoke moves next to Hanzo on the couch and, as he watches in surprise, coalesces slowly into the form of a grey-haired older man with dark skin and burning red eyes.

Muttering a curse in Japanese, Hanzo's hands twitch to get his bow from where it leans against a nearby table. “What _are_ you?” he asks.

Gabe sighs. ”Cursed,” he says, his voice rough and dry. “Can’t hold this form long. It hurts.”

Hanzo frowns. “Then why are you—”

He’s cut off by a sudden movement and the alarming sensation of Gabe’s icy cold hand at his throat. Hanzo struggles briefly, grabbing Gabe's wrist, but the wraith is immovable. “I may be cursed,” Gabe growls, “but your fate will be much worse if you bring pain to Jesse’s life.”

Ah. The shovel talk. Hanzo holds Gabe’s gaze even as he breathes hoarsely through the constrictions on his throat. “I have no intention of hurting—”

“ _You bring danger_!” Gabe hisses. “I can _smell_ it on you!”

The hand at his throat relaxes slightly, and Hanzo pushes him away. The creature fades into mist form again with a rustle not unlike wind blowing through dead leaves. “What do you mean?” he asks, suddenly concerned.

Those sooty red eyes sear into his soul. _they have found you,_ he whispers. _already they plan their move. you should leave before jesse gets hurt._

Hanzo pauses as dread curls up from inside him. "Is it—"

 _shimada,_ Gabe whispers, before fading entirely from Hanzo’s sight.

 

“What, exactly, is Gabe capable of?” Hanzo asks Jesse while they have lunch. Jesse had returned from his errand to find him pacing the living room, working himself into a panic, while Genji and Yuki were off god-knows-where. He had taken one look at Hanzo before dragging him out to a restaurant in the small town down the road. Hanzo's nervous to leave the Library, but he feels a lot safer with Jesse around. He also has his bow concealed in a guitar case right next to him, and with his new skills, he's feeling a lot more confident about taking down whatever assassins might be lurking nearby.

“Whaddaya mean?” Jesse replies around a mouthful of taco. 

Hanzo frowns, poking at his own meal with a fork. The burrito bowl he’d ordered looks and smells delicious, but Gabe’s warning is echoing through his head. “Can he see the future?” It sounds ridiculous as soon as he says it, but one look at Jesse tells him it’s not.

“Well,” Jesse replies, dragging the word out as he looks thoughtfully at the ceiling, “yes and no. He gets flashes of premonition sometimes. Insights. But it’s never set in stone, what he sees.” He frowns. “Why? Did he tell you something?”

"You know I am worried about my family finding me," he says quietly. "I cannot tell if I am imagining it, but I keep seeing signs of their presence. I believe they will attack soon." He glances around the restaurant, his gaze automatically picking out at least two groups of people who are a little too well-dressed for this establishment and could easily be more than just local businessmen out for lunch.

Jesse frowns. “I've been keeping an eye out. I keep thinking we're being followed when we leave the Library. I coulda sworn there was a car tailing us today, but they turned off before we got here. You don't think I'm just being paranoid?"

“Most definitely not,” Hanzo replies. “They do not give up. I also tried to convince myself that I was being paranoid, but now Gabe has told me that danger is near me.” He takes a deep breath. “I asked him what danger, and he said _Shimada_. He could not have known my family name, unless you told him.”

Jesse stares at him in silence and shakes his head. “He ain’t got no reason to go snooping in my computer to get your name, if that’s what you’re wondering. He might not be the friendliest of aberrations, but he ain’t malicious. He musta seen something. And something pretty damn clear, if he got a name out of it.”

Hanzo grimaces. "Jesse… there is something else you should consider."

"Yeah?"

"I have been wondering why they haven't attacked yet. Both Genji and I have left the Library on various occasions during the past week." He glances around again, catching a person from one of the suspicious-looking groups watching them. The man doesn't hold his gaze, though; merely glances around more before looking back at his friends. Hanzo sighs; he can't automatically assume that every well-dressed individual who looks even slightly out of place is an assassin sent by his family.

Jesse frowns. "Maybe they're just scopin' the place out, figurin' out how to get you alone," he suggests.

"No." Hanzo rubs his eyes. "I suspect the entire Library is in danger now, thanks to me."

"Whaddaya mean?"

"Why settle for just me and Genji when they have the potential to control the biggest source of magical knowledge in the world?"

Jesse nods. "Yeah, I'd been wondering that as well. Don't you worry, I've been shoring up the wards. It'll take a lot to get past them now."

"I'm sorry," Hanzo says quietly, looking down at his bowl of food.

Jesse chuckles, taking his hand. "Hey, darlin', if you think a bunch of assassins getting into my Library is the worst I've ever had to deal with, you're dreamin'."

"I should have left—" Hanzo begins.

"You're also dreamin' if you think I want you to hightail it outta here so you and Genji can face these guys alone!" He points a finger at Hanzo. "I told you, I told Genji, I'm gonna help out. ‘Sides, I’m pretty good in a fight. If—when—they show up, I’m helpin’ you, and that’s final. Anyway, if they want the Library, it ain't gonna do either of us any good if you leave. You might as well stay.” He picks up his taco again and takes a big bite, raising an eyebrow at Hanzo as if daring him to argue.

Hanzo opens his mouth to object, but he stays silent, Jesse’s words rolling around in his head. He’s been fighting on his own for a long time now, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want or need the company. It warms his heart to hear Jesse so vehemently insist on being with him. Hanzo nods once and starts in on his lunch, trying to push down the warm, giddy feeling in his chest. As they eat in silence, Jesse slides his foot against Hanzo’s under the table, and they both look up and share a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all liked the sex chapter. :D
> 
> [link to the art!](https://78.media.tumblr.com/8dfd67306a315814cbe5819644204633/tumblr_pe39x37Bjd1s98nswo1_1280.jpg) Thank you mctiddiezo!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An alarm wakes them in the middle of the night: Hanzo's family have finally tracked them down.

The alarm is deafening. It's a sound Jesse's only heard once in his life, and he's out of bed in seconds, pulling on his clothes and grabbing Peacekeeper from the drawer beside his bed. 

Hanzo stirs, pushing his hair out of his face as he sits up groggily. "Whassat?" he mumbles.

"Intruder," Jesse replies, sitting on the edge of the bed to tug his boots on. Hanzo doesn't reply, but he quickly dresses and arms himself, ready to head out at the same time as Jesse.

All those who live in the Library know the sound of the intruder alarm. It's loud enough to literally wake the dead, and as Jesse strides through the hallways towards the atrium, he finds Jack and Gabe waiting for them. Gabe has added teeth and eyes to his shadowy form, in places where teeth and eyes should definitely not be. Jack’s eyes are burning dark red embers as he walks upright, no longer a decrepit old man, his form wreathed in inky black mist, teeth and claws elongated and sharp. Hanzo balks from them, and Jack turns to him with a snarl.

"Hey, easy," Jesse warns.

Jack looks contrite. "Sorry," he mutters, his voice low and harsh. "Not used to—this." He gestures at himself. "Been a few years." 

"Save it for our guests," Jesse says. He glances at Hanzo. "I'm guessing it's your family. They got past the wards."

Hanzo nods once. "I suspect so. I knew they were watching me. Trying to find a way in."

Jesse grins at him. "Well, now they're on _my_ turf. Remember back when you first showed up and I gave you a library card?"

Hanzo nods again, perplexed.

Jesse's grin turns wicked. "These guys ain't got a library card."

 

Right outside the doors to the atrium they come across Genji and Yuki, who look incredibly relieved to see Jesse and Hanzo. The relief falls from their faces quickly at the sight of Jack and Gabe.

“Demons!” Genji growls, and he lights up green as his dragon Raiu appears on his shoulder, snarling.

“No, no!” Hanzo reassures him. He glances at the two creatures, remembering his first encounter with Gabe. “They are on our side. I swear it.”

Genji looks dubious, but Yuki elbows him. “We need all the help we can get,” she murmurs.

“Promise they won’t try to eat you,” Jesse adds.

“Alright,” Genji says, still frowning. “I suppose we can kill them later, if need be.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Jack hisses through a mouthful of too many sharp teeth.

“They are not a threat to us,” Hanzo says, placing a hand on Genji’s shoulder. 

Raiu hisses softly then sticks her forked tongue out to taste the air. "Hopefully they're a threat to the people out there," Genji grumbles.

"Yeah? You got any idea what's going on?" Jesse puts his ear up to the door and listens.

"I counted up to a dozen, but there are likely more," Genji replies. He glances at Hanzo. "Our uncle is there. As well as Hashimoto."

Hanzo's eyes light up bright blue and his dragons flare into life, small forms winding around him and growing. "We will kill them first," he grates.

"No argument from me," Genji says, giving him a crooked smile. 

Jesse waves them to silence, trying to hear what's happening on the other side of the door. He can hear muffled voices in Japanese and the sounds of things being tossed around. A quick glance back tells him that the others are ready. He takes a fortifying breath, cocks Peacekeeper’s hammer, and kicks open the door.

"Well, howdy," he says with a smirk, and summons Deadeye.

 

Hanzo stares as six of the men in the atrium fall dead with a bullet between the eyes. It happens so quickly, he barely even notices Jesse raise his gun, and when he glances back at Jesse, Hanzo sees him grinning, his eyes red and a shimmer of heat surrounding him.

"Let's get 'em," he says with a wink, and Hanzo grins back, Jesse’s confidence infectious.

Jesse took out six of the Clan instantaneously, but those remaining seem relaxed, hands on sheathed weapons, staring at Hanzo and Genji like a cowboy didn’t just shoot half a dozen men with one shot. Hanzo recognises some of them as being distant relatives; the rest are probably hired muscle. 

The odd pause is broken by a slow clap, and the black-clothed assassins stand aside to reveal a large figure sitting in Jesse's chair, his feet up on the desk. A short man stands behind him, moonlight from the high windows shining off his nearly-bald head.

"Uncle," Hanzo says cordially. Next to him, Genji draws in a sharp breath.

"You have found friends, I see," Uncle Masato says, his feet hitting the floor with a _thump_. He stands, placing both hands on the desk, and leans forward. "And a _very_ interesting place to stay."

"Don't you dare—" Hanzo starts.

"I think we'll be staying," Masato interrupts, looking around the atrium. "The knowledge, the _power_ in this place… it is a shame to keep it all locked away."

"I'd like to see you try," Jesse growls. Hanzo can feel Jesse’s presence at his side, heat radiating off him like a furnace. He can smell the hot, dusty scent of Jesse's magic, and he glances over to see waves of it swirling around Jesse like an aura.

Masato scoffs and murmurs something to Hashimoto. Hanzo's old teacher is wizened and almost decrepit now—he leans heavily on a cane, and what hair he has left is thin and white. Yet when he looks straight at Hanzo, Hanzo feels like a child again. Obsidian eyes bore into him, and he takes an involuntary step back.

Masato sneers. "You were never fit to lead the clan," he states. "Look at you—running off to America with your useless brother in tow instead of facing up to your responsibilities to the clan!" He slams a fist down on the desk, and a pile of papers stacked at the end slides to the floor. 

"The clan can go fuck itself," Genji says succinctly.

The twin gazes of their uncle and their teacher swing immediately to Genji, who holds his head up and glares back. "You dare—" Hashimoto begins.

"Why are you even here?" Hanzo demands. "Do you really think we want to return? Do you think I _care_ about what the clan does anymore?"

Masato chuckles mirthlessly. "It is no longer about you," he says, his voice calm. "You would never be welcomed back. You can keep your dragons; they are not worth the trouble. They will die with you, anyway. But this Library? _Finally_ you bring us something worthwhile."

From the corner of his eye, Hanzo can see two black shapes moving silently through the shadows. He keeps his gaze fixed on his uncle.

"Arrogance," Hanzo says, his lip curling in disgust. "You think to win here tonight? Uncle, I am afraid that you no longer control the situation."

Masato scoffs. "I think, in fact, that I _do_." He waves a hand, and Jesse is suddenly thrown across the room, slamming into the wall and crashing to the floor. Masato, the air around him crackling with power, stalks towards Jesse's prone form and nudges him with the toe of his shoe. Jesse doesn't move.

"No!" Hanzo cries, but Genji is right there, holding his arm, stopping him from approaching.

"Wait," he hisses in Hanzo's ear. "Can you not sense it?"

Hanzo takes a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the form of his lover splayed out on the floor. As he centres himself, his magic stirs to life within him, casting its energy out towards Jesse. Then— _there_ , ever so faintly, he senses the heat building within Jesse's aura. 

Masato doesn't seem to be aware of it, and he turns to smile at Hanzo and Genji. "I will not mourn the deaths of the Shimada heirs. In fact, I look forward to wiping my hands clean of you both. This Library is now my priority. And it seems it is not as well protected as the legends say." 

Hanzo sneers. "You would be wrong," he replies, and two shadowy figures attack from the darkness.

Jack and Gabe need no further cues. Gabe's target is absorbed into the wraith with a muffled and painful scream, while the other henchman lets out a gurgling groan as Jack wrestles him to the floor and begins to feed.

Masato turns towards the two unfortunate henchmen. A gust of hot wind blows through the atrium and encircles Jesse where he is slumped on the floor. The wind lifts Jesse, setting him back on his feet, and his eyes snap open.

They're burning red, bright like a raging fire, and Hanzo gasps. Jesse glances his way and grins, wide and cocky, and he mouths _duck_.

Hanzo hits the floor, dragging Genji with him, just as a wave of desert-dry air rolls over them. It knocks several assailants off their feet, but Masato raises a shield to protect both him and Hashimoto from the force of the blast faster than Hanzo thought possible.

"You think," Jesse says firmly, "that you can just waltz in here and say you're takin' my Library?" He extracts a cigarillo tin from his back pocket, opening it up and lighting one with a flame from the tip of his finger. "I don't think so." He lifts his hand and exhales over it, a plume of cigar smoke coiling over his palm, and Hanzo watches in awe as it becomes a gout of flame.

"Tch. Showy." Masato crooks a finger, and two of the henchmen take up positions in front of him, facing Jesse. “Keep him busy,” Masato instructs. They nod, and lightning and ice crackle around their raised fists as they begin firing off spells towards Jesse.

"Jesse!" Hanzo calls as he and Genji quickly stand up.

"I'm fine. I can deal with these guys!" Jesse shouts back, dodging and weaving around the spikes of ice that shatter against the wall and the bolts of lightning that earth themselves around him. 

Hanzo looks back to his uncle, his grip tightening on his bow. What remains of the attackers defend themselves from not only Gabe and Jack, but a very angry Yuki. All Hanzo can see from her direction is a cloud of fur as she screeches and lays into two people at once, sharp knives flashing and teeth tearing. 

Genji is next to him, both of them staring down Masato and Hashimoto. It has been too long since Hanzo stood side by side with his brother, knowing that they had each other's back. They glance at each other, grinning, and as one, their magic fills them. Genji glows bright green, Raiu roaring into life over his shoulder, and Hanzo raises his bow, lightning crackling along the arrow as his vision turns bright spirit-blue.

For just a moment, Masato and Hashimoto falter. Masato frowns. "You've been practicing," he whispers, his eye twitching.

"You lied to us," Hanzo says, and shoots him in the face.

It's point blank, but the arrow bounces off harmlessly. Masato lowers his hand, the shield still shimmering around him.

"Is that all?" Masato asks, before almost carelessly tossing a fireball towards Hanzo and Genji. Hanzo ducks. Searing pain streaks across his side as he drops to the floor. The next ball of fire passes over the top of his head, and he feels the boiling heat prickling his skin. Genji shouts in pain and Hanzo glances across to see his brother on the floor, teeth bared against the pain of the fresh burn across his cheek. 

The smell of singed hair fills the air as they roll to their feet. Hanzo pushes the pain to the back of his mind and his hands flash blue, lightning twisting around his arms. Genji flings a fan of lightning-charged shuriken at where Hashimoto is standing just behind Masato. They bounce and scatter across the floor, deflected by the shield, lightning crawling across the floor and dissipating into the air.

"They thought it would be easy," Hashimoto says, his voice as dry and dusty as the books in the Library. He sneers at the brothers, and Masato chuckles.

Hanzo takes a deep breath, his teeth clenched against the burning agony in his side. He glances down and sees a large hole seared through his t-shirt, revealing the angry burn beneath. Not half an hour ago, Hanzo was curled up in bed with Jesse, feeling happier and more content than he had in a long time. His dragons murmur in his mind, reassuring, and he glances at Genji and inclines his head. Genji nods and they split off, one to each side of the shielded pair. A cold rage builds in him to match the icy-blue sparks surrounding his body. He would never forgive thse men for what they had put him through. For what they wanted to take from him.

Kaminari and Inazuma roar as they follow each arrow from Hanzo’s bow. Genji's shuriken glow green as they whistle through the air. Their dragons swirl around them, diving in for attacks whenever they see an opening. Together they are a storm—raging winds, shocking lightning, deafening thunder. Their frustration mounts with each deflected attack, adding to Hanzo's anger.

His heart hammering in his chest, Hanzo finds himself wordlessly roaring with his dragons, the pain in his side fading to nothing compared to the pain these two men have caused him in his life.

Fireballs surround them, a constant stream of fiery death, and Hanzo grimaces as attack after attack fails to drop the shield protecting the two old men. Hanzo and Genji are fast, years of training under these men working now in the brothers' favour, and Hanzo almost sneers as he easily ducks and weaves around the attacks. The older men seem to be slipping—their attacks are sloppy, mistakes Hanzo would have been beaten for. Masato's attacks falter as he goes on the defensive, clinging desperately to his shield as Hanzo and Genji use their new skills to go on the assault. Hashimoto cringes behind Masato's shield, attempting to use his own elemental magic against the brothers. But the spells are becoming weaker with every shot, and Hanzo grins as he begins to see fear in their eyes. Genji was right. They _do_ wield powerful magic, and there is nothing that can stand against them.

 _jesse!_ The voiceless shout from Gabe penetrates the haze of lightning surrounding Hanzo. He whips around to see where Jesse was fighting. Once again Jesse is lying prone on the floor. This time, though, Hanzo cannot sense his aura, and his stomach drops to the floor when he sees a pool of blood spreading beneath Jesse.

The man standing over Jesse stumbles backwards with a scream as Gabe and Jack swoop down. Hanzo has never seen either of them like this. Gabe is a terrifying wraith of teeth and fire, roaring wordlessly. Jack towers above him, at least ten feet tall, spindly arms and legs dripping with darkness as he opens his mouth to reveal a gaping maw filled with pointed fangs. Jesse's attacker scrambles backwards, trying to get away, but he is consumed within moments.

Jesse still lies unmoving, and Hanzo exhales a charged cloud of air as he turns his narrowed gaze back to his uncle.

"You did this," he growls. His dragons grow, larger than Hanzo has ever seen them before. They hiss, mouths gaping open, drooling blue lightning. 

Flinching back, his hands shaking, Masato weaves his hands together to form a bolt of lightning. Acting immediately on his command, Kaminari and Inazuma create a spinning, roaring shield in front of him just as the massive bolt hits.

The lightning crackles as the dragons absorb it. Hanzo's hair stands on end as the air surrounding him becomes so charged that he can taste it, the sharp ozone tang on the tip of his tongue. The dragons grow, spiralling in the air around him, a perfect storm.

Masato's eyes widen and he lets out a short cry as Kaminari and Inazuma barrel towards him, tearing through his shield like paper. He vanishes from Hanzo's sight as the dragons descend upon him.

A blinding flash of light fills the atrium and the dragons vanish. On the floor is a withered husk: all that is left of Uncle Masato.

Hanzo stares at the corpse, his heart pounding so hard he twitches with every beat. 

"He deserved worse," Genji says beside him, and Hanzo nods silently.

"Have mercy," a voice croaks from not far away, and Hanzo looks up to see Hashimoto on his knees, his head bowed.

"Why should we offer you anything except a quick death?" Genji asks, standing over the old man with his shuriken ready. Green lightning surrounds Genji like a halo and Raiu sits on his shoulder, hissing loudly.

"I only did what I was ordered!" Hashimoto protests weakly.

Hanzo closes his eyes, remembering years of abuse from this man. He takes a deep breath, pushing aside the memory of the night Hashimoto and Masato took his legs, and looks down at the pathetic sight of his torturer on his knees before him.

"Not good enough," he says quietly, and Genji nods once. 

Hashimoto looks up at them with hatred in his rheumy eyes. "You were not worth it," he spits, before Hanzo dispatches him with an arrow to the throat.

Hashimoto's body hits the floor, and Hanzo's bow drops from his suddenly nerveless fingers as he rushes to Jesse's side.

"Jesse!" he calls, frantically trying to see where the blood is coming from. There seems to be so _much_ of it, soaking through Jesse's shirt, and Hanzo tears the fabric open to find a long, jagged gash just below his right pectoral. The wound is sluggishly bleeding, and Hanzo glances around desperately for something to staunch the flow before yanking off his t-shirt and wadding it up against the torn flesh.

"Is he alright?" Genji asks, kneeling down opposite Hanzo.

"I don't know," Hanzo gasps, fumbling at Jesse's neck with shaking hands, trying to feel a pulse. He holds his breath until he feels a beat against his fingers, and exhales loudly.

"Can y'all shut up, I've got the worst goddamn headache," Jesse mumbles, his eyes still closed.

Hanzo laughs; he can't help it. The laughter bubbles out of him until he's shaking and crying with relief, and Jesse reaches up and clumsily pats his face.

"I'm okay, darlin'," he says softly. "Just a cut."

"No, no, no," Hanzo mumbles, "it is not _just a cut_! We need to get you to hospital!" He tries to dig in his pocket for his phone to call an ambulance but needs both hands to hold his shirt in place. Bright red blood is already beginning to soak through the fabric and stain his hands.

"Desk drawer," Jesse rasps, slinging an arm out and pointing. "Third down. Biotic emitter."

"I will get it," Genji says, leaping to his feet and rushing over to the desk. He returns moments later with a small canister and slams it to the ground right next to Jesse. There's a soft _hiss_ and a warm field of yellow light encompasses them all. 

Jesse sighs and mumbles something incomprehensible, his eyes sliding shut and his ragged breathing loud and harsh. Hanzo watches him intently, vaguely aware that the pain from the burn on his side eases as the biotic field does its work. Only after several minutes have passed and the field has faded does he risk lifting his shirt off Jesse's wound.

"How's it look?" Jesse asks.

Hanzo blinks in surprise. "You must have very good biotic emitters," he says as he gently touches the angry red scar now decorating Jesse's torso. The wound has closed completely, looking like it is weeks old. He closes his eyes and breathes a sigh of relief.

"It looks good," Genji says. 

His words sound distant as Hanzo leans over and buries his face in Jesse's chest. Jesse strokes his back softly as Hanzo quietly lets out a hiccuping sob. He can feel Jesse's breathing stutter as his hand tightens against Hanzo's back.

"You are so reckless!" Hanzo looks up at Jesse, seeing through his blurred vision that Jesse's face is wet with tears. "You could have been killed!"

"But I wasn't," Jesse points out, and Hanzo lightly smacks his shoulder.

"You ass," he grumbles, then lowers his eyes. "Thank you. For aiding me."

Jesse doesn't reply, just pulls Hanzo up so he can kiss him. Hanzo leans into Jesse, kissing him back with relief through the salty tears. It's okay—they're all alive, and Jesse is going to be alright. 

"Can you stand?" Hanzo eventually asks as he sits up and wipes his face with the back of his hand.

"Yeah, I reckon I can," Jesse replies, and groans as Hanzo helps him to his feet. Despite Jesse's assertions that he can walk fine, Hanzo insists on sliding under Jesse's arm and supporting him with his own arm around Jesse's waist as they survey the room.

The battle appears to mostly be over. What lackeys were left after Hanzo and Genji dispatched their uncle have fallen prey to the Library's defences. As Hanzo watches, a large hole opens up out of nowhere and swallows a knife-wielding man who had been stalking Jack. A hideous scream and gurgle comes from a corner where several bookshelves have wedged themselves together to create a trap for an unfortunate assassin. Two more figures are pinned like butterflies to the wall by a tangle of thorny vines that have grown up out of the floor. And in a scene reminiscent of Beauty and the Beast, the last man standing is being viciously attacked by the card catalogues as Jesse's desk chair rams him in the legs. 

Together, they approach the single remaining assassin.

The poor man is having a bad time of it as the Library batters him from every angle with all the furniture and office supplies it has at its disposal. As Hanzo and Jesse walk through the chaos, the Library recognises its own and stops its attack. The man falls to his knees, panting and exhausted. There are several staples embedded in his forehead, and Hanzo winces.

"You wanna live?" Jesse growls, and the man nods frantically. Jesse leans down and puts his hand around his throat. The touch is gentle, but the man screams as Jesse's fire-laced flesh sears a handprint into his neck. "You go back to Hanamura," Jesse instructs, "and you tell the rest of them what happened here. And your clan never, _ever_ , comes back to America." 

The man blinks as he sees Hanzo glaring down at him, Genji approaching from the side. His face fills with fear when he realises that the two scions of the Shimada clan are now standing over him with lightning in their eyes and implacable purpose on their faces.

"Was that really a good idea?" Jack asks as the final assassin scurries toward the door, leaving a trail of blood behind him. The old vampire looks small and shrunken, his clothing torn and a disconcerting amount of blood around his mouth. Hanzo cringes at the sight.

A green flash of lightning zaps the assassin in the butt as he flees, and the man shrieks, falling over himself to get out the door.

Hanzo looks at Genji with a raised eyebrow.

"What?" Genji says with a grin.

Hanzo rolls his eyes at his brother before looking back at Jack. "He'll tell the rest of the clan what happened," he says. He glances around the room, at the bodies strewn on the floor. "We have but one uncle remaining in Hanamura; I imagine he will instead attempt to consolidate his power back home. They sent their best tonight. They will not try again." He kicks Masato's body. 

"You really think they will let the dragons go?" Genji asks. 

"You heard Masato. They have no interest in taking us back. And what would be the point? Neither of us will pass the ability to our children, if we even decide to have any." He shakes his head. "No, I think they will give us up for good, especially after tonight."

"Well, thank God for that," Jesse drawls. He looks around the atrium of his beloved Library and sighs. "Look at all this blood. And how am I gonna get rid of all these bodies? I can't just dump 'em in the swamp!"

Jack clears his throat and points at Yuki, sitting on the floor next to a dead man with his throat ripped out. Her face has enough blood on it to almost match Jack's, and Genji groans. "Yuki!" he snaps, and she glances up.

"Sorry," she says, not sounding sorry at all. She wipes some of the blood off her face and stands up, her tails fanning out behind her. "And before you ask, I am _not_ disposing of all these bodies for you."

"She eats _human bodies_?" Jesse whispers furiously in Hanzo's ear, and Hanzo covers his mouth to hide a laugh.

"No," he replies, amused at Jesse's sudden squeamishness. He has a _vampire_ in the cellar, and he's worried about this? "She's just got very sharp teeth. They're a good weapon."

 _are we done here?_ Gabe asks, his smoky form swirling around Jack. _because i need to put jack to bed before he falls over._

"Yeah," Jesse says, snaking his hand into Hanzo's and squeezing tightly, "I think we're done." 

"I'm going to sleep for a week," Genji groans, slumping over with his hands on his thighs. Yuki slides under his arm and tucks herself against his side, and he smiles down at her.

"I'm just glad you're alive," Hanzo murmurs to Jesse, pulling him in for a soft kiss.

"Likewise," Jesse replies, tugging him closer. He glances down at Hanzo and his smile turns wicked. "You lost your shirt, darlin'."

Hanzo holds up the wadded cloth, soaked in Jesse's blood. "It was for a good cause."

"Hmm." Jesse's eyes rake down his bare chest, lingering on his pecs. Hanzo flushes hot; Jesse seems to be feeling a _lot_ better. A jolt of lust pierces Hanzo, and his dick suddenly throbs as he gazes into Jesse's dark eyes.

"I think that's our cue to leave," Genji announces. "Goodnight!"

Hanzo doesn't have a chance to respond before Genji and Yuki have fled back into the Library, leaving him and Jesse alone.

"Han, baby," Jesse says, his hand sliding up Hanzo's chest and lightly caressing a nipple. "C'mere, sweetheart."

Hanzo doesn't need any more encouragement—the adrenalin is still pumping through his veins, and now that they're alone, all he wants to do is push Jesse down onto the floor and fuck him. He tilts his head up and kisses Jesse, open-mouthed and wet. Jesse moans and pushes him towards the shelves at the back of the atrium, away from the bodies and the smell of blood. 

Hanzo's ass bumps up against a solid desk hidden away between the shelves, and without breaking the kiss, Jesse gets his hands under Hanzo's thighs and hoists him up so he's perched on the edge of the desk. Hanzo wraps his legs around Jesse's waist, pulling him close. They both grunt as their hips grind together.

"Your shirt is ruined," Hanzo says, briefly pulling his mouth away from Jesse's. "You should take it off."

"Too easy," Jesse replies, shrugging the torn garment from his shoulders and pressing their bare chests together. "God, you were amazing tonight," he murmurs, kissing a trail down Hanzo's neck.

Hanzo lets his head fall back and whines softly as Jesse continues on down his chest, open-mouthed kisses leaving Hanzo's skin damp. Warm lips encircle a nipple and Hanzo lets out a gasp as Jesse strokes it with the tip of his tongue. 

Heart pounding, Hanzo grabs Jesse's head in both hands, sliding his fingers through Jesse's tangled hair and holding him against his chest. His dick is hard and straining in his jeans, and he shifts his hips, wanting _more_. Jesse moans as Hanzo tugs at his hair, and sucks harder at Hanzo's nipple.

Without warning, the entire atrium rumbles and shifts. There's an almost audible disapproving grunt, and Jesse curses.

"We almost fuckin' died!" he shouts. "Leave us alone!"

The grumbling subsides, and Jesse huffs in relief.

"Are—are we going to get kicked out?" Hanzo asks, his hands frozen in Jesse's hair.

"Nah," Jesse says, and plants his hands firmly on Hanzo's thighs, pushing them apart further. He caresses Hanzo's dick through his jeans, and Hanzo whimpers.

Jesse leans close and kisses Hanzo's earlobe. "Get your pants open so I can suck your dick."

Hanzo doesn't need to be told twice. He fumbles with the button and zip for a moment before tugging his jeans open and pulling his underwear down. His cock is fully hard, wet at the tip, and Jesse looks down at him.

"Goddamn," Jesse murmurs, his eyes fixed on Hanzo's cock. "You got a gorgeous dick, Han. Can't wait to get it in my mouth."

"Then get to it," Hanzo growls, leaning back on his elbows and spreading his legs further. 

Jesse falls to his knees with a _thump_. He caresses Hanzo's sides, tracing the shape of his abdominal muscles as he leans in and breathes hot air over Hanzo's dick.

Hanzo's breath hitches. An embarrassingly loud whimper escapes him when Jesse licks a long stripe from the base of his cock to the tip before circling the head with his tongue. He sucks gently, caressing the ridge of the crown as Hanzo bites his lip to try to stifle his moans. 

"You taste so good," Jesse mumbles, and slides his mouth all the way down to the base. Hanzo lets out a shout as he feels the head of his cock nudge at the back of Jesse's throat. The hot, slick suction is almost more than he can deal with, and he pants and gasps and kicks the side of the desk as Jesse slides up and down his dick.

Hanzo can already feel his orgasm building in his groin. Waves of heat envelop him and he stares resolutely at the ceiling, trying to hold off a bit longer. But all he can hear are the soft, wet sounds of Jesse sucking his dick. Jesse moans softly as he works, and the vibrations only serve to intensify the sensations. Hanzo glances down and sees himself disappearing into Jesse's gorgeous mouth, lips stretched wide around Hanzo's cock. He shoves a fist into his mouth and tangles the other hand in Jesse's hair as the rising tide of lust fills him.

"Jesse—" he gasps around his fist, tightening the hand in Jesse's hair to try to pull him closer. 

Jesse just hums, sending another pulse of desire through him, and Hanzo can feel his balls tightening up as his entire body tenses. Giving one final push, Jesse sucks hard on his cock, burying his face in the curly hair at the base and swallowing around the head of Hanzo's dick.

Hanzo's shout as he comes echoes around the atrium. Jesse keeps sucking for several more seconds until Hanzo pushes his head away, too over sensitive to continue. Jesse hums quietly and licks him clean before pulling Hanzo’s underwear up and tucking him away.

"Give me a minute and I'll return the favour," Hanzo mumbles, his voice slurred. He pats Jesse's head absently, combing the wild strands into place and stroking his face.

Jesse clears his throat uncomfortably. "No need," he says, sounding embarrassed.

Hanzo sits up and looks down at Jesse, who has his jeans open and his cock in hand. Streaks of come are spattered all over his hand and the floor in front of him, and Hanzo raises his eyebrow.

"Sorry, darlin'," Jesse says, grabbing his torn shirt and quickly cleaning himself up before putting his clothes to rights. "You looked and sounded so good, and I was so turned on, I couldn't help it." He looks away, his cheeks flushed.

"I'm flattered," Hanzo murmurs, and pulls Jesse up to kiss him soundly.

The shelves around them creak, almost groaning, and without warning, Jesse and Hanzo find themselves being flung out of the corner. They land in an unceremonious heap on the floor of the atrium, and Jesse sighs.

" _Now_ we're being kicked out," he says grumpily, and Hanzo laughs.

 

It's a few hours before dawn when they finally make it back to Jesse's apartment. Jesse is exhausted, his entire body aching, but despite a hot shower and then the warm presence of Hanzo at his side in bed, he can't sleep. Hanzo is restless as well, tossing and turning as Jesse stares at the ceiling willing himself to fall asleep.

"Can't sleep?" Jesse murmurs eventually.

"I have been thinking," Hanzo begins, then stops. He rolls over to face Jesse.

"Yeah?" Jesse turns over as well, sliding a leg between Hanzo's thighs and stroking his side.

"About what I will do now."

Jesse frowns. He's been thinking about it too, rolling the problem around in his head for the past few days, trying to come up with an answer which results in Hanzo staying with him. Despite them spending every night together recently, they've both avoided talking about the future. Jesse knows Hanzo likes him—it's obvious in the way he curls up next to Jesse and falls asleep on him after they've had sex, not to mention the smiles and casual touches throughout the day. Even now, Hanzo reaches up caress Jesse's neck and shoulders as he looks at him in the dim light.

"There's a fair bit of work for a demon hunter here in Florida," Jesse says tentatively. 

"There is," Hanzo allows. "And that is something I have considered."

"Yeah?" Jesse tries not to sound too hopeful.

"There was another thing I have been thinking about. I recall when I first came to the Library, you mentioned that you are working on an online catalogue system."

Jesse rolls his eyes and groans. "Darlin', by 'working on', I mean I've made some notes about how I could go about it. That's it, though. It's a monster of a job. Even worse now that the goddamn Library decided to use its own card catalogues as a _weapon_." He scowls. He's trying to avoid thinking about how much work it will be to file all the cards back into their proper drawers. He's thinking of calling Lena and Lucio in for some extra hours over the next week or so.

Hanzo taps his chin thoughtfully. "You know, I studied computer and information science at university. It was only a minor subject, but I do believe I could help. I may need to study up a bit first, but—"

"You—you wanna tackle that card catalogue?" There are millions of items in there; it could take a lifetime. It's the main reason he's never begun the job himself—it's so daunting.

A firm nod. "I do," Hanzo replies. "It is a _travesty_ that in the year 2076, patrons are forced to use a card catalogue." He peers at Jesse, his brows furrowed. "My _grandfather_ was using online databases when he was a small boy."

"Yeah, yeah," Jesse grumbles. "Okay, look. Ana's due in for a visit sometime in the next month or so. We'll convince her that it needs doin' and that you're willing to do it. I bet I could get Lucio and Lena to help out, too. They're always beggin' me to give 'em more work here."

"Good," Hanzo says with a smile. He rolls over onto his other side, facing away from Jesse, and shuffles back a little so Jesse is spooning him.

"There's, uh, also the matter of where you're gonna stay," Jesse says, not quite finished with this conversation.

Hanzo's movements still. "I can look for a place to rent locally," he says. 

Jesse shakes his head. "I mean, you could. If you wanted. But you're more than welcome to stay here. With me." He coughs nervously. 

Hanzo cranes his neck to look back at him. "Really? You are serious?"

"Well, why not?"

"I just—I did not expect—"

"Darlin', I ain't ever been happier than since I met you."

"I feel the same," Hanzo says softly, and smiles up at him.

Jesse's just moving in for a kiss when the room lights up in a dizzying array of colours. It's almost like the northern lights on acid: soft, shimmering rainbows fall in waves from the ceiling and fairy lights swirl around the room.

"What the hell?" Jesse rubs his eyes, wondering if he's imagining things.

Hanzo's body starts shaking as he laughs quietly. "Look over there, Jesse," he says, pointing at the wall opposite. Above the bookshelf, engraved into the dark blue wall, is a large heart filled with intricate red scrollwork spelling out _Jesse & Hanzo_.

"Oh my god," Jesse groans. He casts his eyes to the ceiling. "You're embarrassing me!"

Hanzo glances back at him, the corners of his mouth twitching in mirth. "I think it is sweet. And I am glad you have such a supportive workplace."

They lean to kiss, and Jesse swears he hears triumphant music in the background as Hanzo's lips meet his.

 

"Are you sure you want to be leaving so quickly?" Hanzo asks the next morning. 

Genji nods, glancing over the car parked outside the Library. When Jesse heard of Genji's plans, he called in a favour from a friend who showed up less than an hour later with the car. Jesse's friend, a strange woman with half her head shaved and the other half dyed purple, had given Hanzo a little wave before vanishing into thin air. It seems a decent enough vehicle, and considering it had only cost a few hundred dollars, Hanzo declined to ask questions.

"I will come and visit you," Genji promises.

"You'd better," Hanzo grumbles. He feels like he could spend the rest of his life reconnecting with his formerly estranged brother, and he doesn't want to let him go so soon. They share an awkward hug for a few moments before Genji breaks away to pick up his bag.

"I have always wanted to do a road trip around America!" he says happily. Yuki rolls her eyes, but she can't hide the smile on her face. 

"Like a little kid," she says, and Genji laughs.

"Don't be strangers," Jesse says. "And if you ever need help, y'all can call on us here." He hands Genji a blank rectangle of cardboard, and Genji looks at him quizzically. "It'll work when you need it," Jesse says cryptically, and Genji shrugs, tucking it away in a pocket of his bag.

Hanzo stands and watches them drive away, staying on the side of the road until their car has vanished from view. Jesse slides an arm around his waist and pulls him close. 

"C'mon," he says gently, "let's go back inside."

 

As they walk through the front door and survey the wreckage of the atrium, Jesse sighs. 

"God _damn_ this is gonna take a long time to clean up," he says.

Hanzo nods. He studiously avoids looking at where Masato and Hashimoto's bodies lie crumpled on the floor and instead glances around to see what else needs doing. There's a lot of blood, sprayed on the wall and lying in pools on the floor, and a lot of the furniture is wrecked. The card catalogues are a nightmare—most of the drawers are hanging open, and a significant portion of their contents are strewn on the floor. But there are no bodies, and Hanzo frowns.

"Where did they all go?" he asks.

Jesse looks similarly confused. "Maybe the Library took care of them for us?" 

Gritting his teeth, Hanzo looks to where Masato and Hashimoto had fallen the previous evening. There's nothing left of them but a smear of blood on the floor, and Hanzo sighs in relief. "Then we owe the Library a great deal of thanks." 

The atrium creaks, and Jesse smiles. "Thank you!" he calls to the rafters.

There's a closet full of cleaning supplies in the far corner of the atrium, and with a sigh, Hanzo and Jesse arm themselves with mops and buckets. They're about to start on the worst patch—it looks like at least three henchmen died here—when the front door of the Library opens.

"Sorry, we're closed today," Jesse begins, turning to see who has come to visit.

"Jesse McCree, _what_ have you done to my Library?"

Jesse drops his mop, and Hanzo stares in surprise at the newcomer. She's an older woman, with a navy blue scarf covering her white hair and a tattoo under one eye. The other eye has an eyepatch over it, making her look distinctly piratical. She leans against the doorframe and surveys the atrium with a frown.

"Ana!" Jesse gasps, rushing over and picking her up like she weighs nothing. Despite her grumbling and smacking Jesse on the arm as he spins her around, she has a smile on her face when he eventually puts her down again.

"Yes, yes, you are happy to see me!" she says, pushing him away and turning in a circle to see the full extent of the damage. "And now I would like you to explain why there is _blood_ all over the atrium! And broken furniture! And—" she whirls around to glare at him— "please explain why you _defiled my sanctum_!"

"You, uh, you know about that, huh?" Jesse says, covering his face with his hands before glaring around. "Thanks for having my back, Library!"

The walls creak in a way that can only be described as smug.

Wind whips up around Ana, tossing her loose, flowing clothes around. Fire fills her eyes. "I know _everything_ that happens—oh, hello, I didn't see you there." 

Hanzo blinks, taken aback at the sudden change in tone, and flinches as Ana's gaze falls upon him. She smiles. 

"I...I..." Hanzo stutters, looking confused. He glances at Jesse for help.

"Ana Amari," she introduces herself. "Owner of this establishment."

Hanzo bows deeply. "Shimada Hanzo. I have heard much of you."

"I'm sure you have," she mutters, glancing at Jesse. "I expect this one has been telling tales, hmm?"

"Only good things, Ana!" Jesse protests. "But what are you doing back? I wasn't expecting you for a while."

Ana glances at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you!" Jesse adds hastily. "It's just—if I'd known you were coming back so soon I mighta cleaned up already."

"I returned _because_ of that," Ana explains. "The Library informed me of the intruders. I came as fast as I could. What happened, and how can we stop it happening again?"

"This might be best told over a cup of tea," Jesse suggests. It seems to be the right thing to say; Ana nods immediately and is out the door and heading upstairs before Hanzo has even put his mop down.

 

Once Jesse and Ana are settled on the couch back in Jesse's apartment, Hanzo goes to put the kettle on and make a pot of tea. He can hear Jesse telling Ana about Hanzo's arrival and blushes when Ana murmurs something about how handsome he is and she can see why Jesse was smitten. 

"Dragons?" she exclaims at one point in the narrative, and Hanzo grins as he spoons tea leaves into the pot. Behind him, he can hear Ana gasping as Kaminari and Inazuma pop up in their small forms and curl around Jesse's shoulders.

"Well," Ana says as Hanzo pours tea for her a short time later, "it seems like you two have had quite the adventure." She sniffs the tea delicately and smiles. "Perfect. Thank you, dear." She pats Hanzo's arm and indicates that he should join them on the couch.

"Are you going to tell her about—you know." Hanzo gives Jesse a nudge. Ana seems to have mellowed considerably since hearing Jesse's story, and now seems to be a good time to convince her of Hanzo's plan.

"Hanzo wants to digitise the catalogue," Jesse says.

Ana blinks slowly at him and takes a sip of her tea, considering the idea. "You know how I feel about modern technology, Jesse."

"I know, but—"

"But perhaps it is time. The Library's collection is always expanding. I believe that when I first built this place, there were several hundred records. How many now?"

"Couple o' million," Jesse says.

"Hmm. It would be a big job." She looks directly at Hanzo. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Hanzo says firmly. "I believe it would help considerably. And—" he glances at Jesse. "—it would allow me to stay here."

"Ha! I _knew_ there was an ulterior motive!" Ana puts her tea down and reaches over Jesse to take Hanzo's hands. Her skin is warm and dry, with that papery thinness of the elderly. Her gaze is intense and piercing, and Hanzo feels almost nailed to the couch by it. She stares at him for a few seconds and then pats his hand decisively.

"If you do not approve," Hanzo starts, but Ana interrupts him.

"My dear," she says, "I think you will do just fine."

The room creaks softly, a warm glow shimmering around them, and Hanzo lets out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He glances at Jesse, who gives him a fond look, and Hanzo smiles back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end! :D
> 
> Massive thanks go to emotionalmorphine, who through this entire process has helped out with ideas, characterisation, plot points, you name it, and then when I thought I was done with a chapter he would go through it with a fine tooth comb and find all the places that needed fixing. I couldn't have done it without you my friend. :D
> 
> And thank you all for your support - reading, liking, reblogging, reccing, commenting - it all means so much! 
> 
> I'm now open to receiving prompts based on this fic... although I might take a little break from writing for a week or so. XD

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr! [sherribonne](http://sherribonne.tumblr.com)


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